


ten cent angel

by bratlas



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempts, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Recovery, Suicide Attempt, also slowburn but not really???, friends to lovers but not really, hard of hearing character, he just needs a little help, johnny is gonna be okay, like.....HEAVY angst, mental illnesses and breakdowns, very ooc johnny seo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2019-12-30 08:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18312404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratlas/pseuds/bratlas
Summary: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: sad goth meets manic pixie dream boy and they live happily ever after.(Except that’s not how it happens)“It’s sort of like watching your friends desperately pursue dead ends for your missing persons alert that everyone else stopped paying attention to long ago, and you can’t tell them to stop it because you’ve been decomposing in a ditch for months. Like, give it up guys, I’m gone.”“First of all, your skinny ass would make terrible worm food. Take a multivitamin before ending up in that ditch. Second of all? Shut the fuck up and find your damn self.”





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh hi so the tags make this story seem really dark and while there’s definitely going to be some pretty heavy stuff detailed in this fic i promise it’s not as emo as it seems. the tags are pretty thorough but i’ll also be adding specific trigger warnings to the chapters just for everyone’s sake. 
> 
> so um this fic is kind of really meaningful to me. it started as a ventfic all the way back in august when i was at my absolute lowest regarding both my mental and physical health and it has since developed into one of my favorite pieces that i’m currently working on. i have about five chapters written as of rn and i’m going to update sporadically, i’m just posting the first chapter here to see the response it gets. i think i had something else to say here but i forgot it which is probably good because this note is getting too long anyways. enjoy! title inspired by johnny’s nickname for ten
> 
> EDIT** five minutes later while proofreading i remembered. TRIGGER WARNING FOR SEXUAL HARASSMENT IN THIS FIRST CHAPTER!! it’s nothing graphic or violent but obviously everyone has different trigger points so i wanted to make sure that was there

Tonight’s musician hasn’t washed his hair in just on this side of too long, and it hangs dark and oily over his eyes as he stares down at the guitar he holds, toying with the tuning pegs. With one foot, he stomps one of the pedals plugged into his amp and guitar, then strums a chord. The sound comes out harsher than before, and a smile quirks the corner of his mouth upwards.

  
Ten doesn’t know too much about music, but he recognizes it as a minor chord, melancholy and low. Seems fitting for this dude; he showed up late, with red-rimmed eyes and a cracking voice when he told Jaehyun he was doing tonight’s set at the bar.

  
“What’s his name again?” Ten asks Jaehyun out of the corner of his mouth.

  
“Johnny something,” answers the younger, busy drying a glass with an old dish towel. Ten hums. “He’s cute.”

  
“He looks like he shot up heroin before he came in here.”

  
“Maybe that’s my type.” Ten shrugs. Johnny stands up, kicking over the chair he’d been sitting in with a calm expression. Ten sees some of the people scattered throughout the bar exchange perplexed looks.

  
“Uh..what’s up,” Johnny says into the microphone, then winces and leans away when there’s a moment of loud feedback. “Sorry. As I was saying, my name’s Johnny Seo. I’m gonna play some songs for you guys tonight.”

  
Johnny’s voice is soft, contradicts his intimidating exterior; he looks like a force to be reckoned with, standing on the stage, in all black and tall enough that the shitty lights shine mostly on his chin and chest rather than his face. Johnny’s eyes are wide, elongated, but Ten notices that they stay half-lidded, emphasizing the dark circles ringing them.

  
“Uh, here’s my first song. Most of my stuff is untitled because I’m not creative, feel free to come up with your own names.” Johnny rolls his eyes and begins to play, hair still in his eyes when he leans into the microphone to sing.

  
Johnny sings more softly than he speaks, which is remarkable to Ten. His voice is a little higher, clear, and though Johnny’s range isn’t very wide, voice clearly untrained and wobbly at times, it’s soothing.

  
“He’s not bad,” Jaehyun mumbles. Ten hums, nods his head in agreement. A few people are approaching the bar, so he puts on his best customer service smile, ignoring the dark lyrics he’s hearing.  
Johnny plays six songs, then takes an intermission, guitar left on its stand on the stage as he hops down and walks towards the bar.

  
“What can I get you?” Ten asks, shooting Johnny a smile. He has a feeling his usual pursuit of people, shooting bedroom eyes and sly smirks in their direction with every word, won’t work on Johnny.

  
“Water, I don’t drink,” Johnny mumbles to the wooden countertop, patting his pockets.

  
“On the house ‘cos you’re cute,” Ten tells him, grabbing a plastic cup for Johnny to take outside, because he can already see Johnny taking a pack of Marlboro Lites out of his back pocket.

  
“Cool,” Johnny throws over his shoulder as he takes the now-filled cup from Ten’s outstretched hand and walks toward the exit.

  
“Should I go out after him?” Ten asks after a minute or two, leaning his chin in his palm. Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Come on, he wasn’t taking the bait. He wasn’t even considering it.”

  
“Maybe I just want to ask if the dude’s fuckin’ okay,” Ten scoffs. “He looks miserable.”

  
“Do whatever you want, I don’t care. Yell if he tries anything,” Jaehyun sighs out. Grinning, Ten walks from behind the bar.

 

  
Johnny ignores the ever-present tightness in his chest as he drags on his cigarette and chases it with a gulp of water. The combination of nicotine and the cold water hitting his empty stomach has Johnny swaying, and he’s positive he’s going to topple right over until there’s a painful yank on the back of his shirt. Johnny hears some of the stitching tear, mouthing a swear to himself as he regains his balance.

  
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stretch your shirt out, I just didn’t want you faceplanting on the concrete,” the bartender who had given Johnny his water apologizes in a hurry, taking a step back when Johnny turns to face him. Johnny tries to fix his expression to something a little nicer, a comment his roommate had made about him looking ready to punch everyone at all times coming to mind.

  
“No worries. Appreciate it.” Johnny stares down at his dropped cigarette, trying not to sigh. “My cigarette.”

  
“I suppose it’d be rude of me to ask for one now?”

  
“No, go ‘head. They’re in my pocket. Do I just pick it up and relight it?” Johnny feels the bartender grab his cigs from his back pocket and comes to his senses, digging in his front one to hand the guy his lighter as well.

  
“No, the ground outside a bar is a fucking death zone, dude. Just light another. My name’s Ten.”

  
“Like a dime?” Johnny looks Ten up and down as the shorter sticks a cigarette between his teeth and lights it.

  
“Yeah, I’m that too.”

  
“So? Did you just come out here to bum a cigarette off me and lecture me on the sanitary dangers of public sidewalks?” Johnny inquires as he picks his cigarette back up anyways and holds his other hand out to Ten for the lighter.

  
“I guess? I just kinda assumed a conversation would ensue. Which, I guess it is, right now.”

  
“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny relights the cigarette and puffs on it, making Ten wince. “What, I didn’t spend grocery money on these to fuckin’ waste ‘em.”

  
“Are you okay? Like, what are you _going_ through?” Ten asks before he can stop himself. And it comes out all wrong, accusatory and sounding as if he’s making a joke out of whatever the hell Johnny really is going through.

  
“ _It_ ,” answers Johnny dryly. “Shouldn’t you be doing your job?”

  
“Maybe so. Shouldn’t you? Or is music not a full-time gig for you?” 

  
“I have five minutes left in this intermission, fuck off.” Johnny bristles, taking two full steps away from Ten.

  
“Okay, well. Thanks for the cigarette. I’m just gonna..leave you alone and finish this and go back inside.” Ten nods his head and walks away so he and Johnny are leaning against the brick exterior of the bar, on either side of the entrance. Johnny finishes his cigarette and walks inside before Ten, who sits in silence trying to figure out an acceptable apology.

  
Johnny’s back onstage when Ten reenters the bar, fiddling with the knobs on his amp. His expression is a little stormier than before, but he’d looked so unapproachable in the first place, Ten is pretty sure he’s the only one who’s noticed.

  
“How did it go?” Jaehyun asks. Ten scowls.

  
“I think I insulted him.”

  
“Yeah, you tend to do that as your weird form of flirting with people.”

  
“He was reciprocating at first, okay?” Ten huffs, pouring himself a shot when no one is looking.

  
“Or was he just being polite?”

  
“Do you think that fuckin’ dude would talk to me for one second if he didn’t feel like it? Also, he let me bum a cigarette, so obviously he was okay with me.” Ten crosses his arms. Johnny begins playing again, this time something purely instrumental.

  
“Fair enough. How’d you insult him?”

  
“I’m not even sure, I wasn’t trying to or anything and he just shut me down.”

  
“Good going,” Jaehyun snorts, “you offended the sensitive hipster?”

  
“I probably could’ve been nicer. He seems like he’s got some shit going on.” Ten shrugs. Jaehyun wipes up a ring of condensation on the counter and mutters about bitch customers not using coasters before focusing on Ten.

  
“No kidding.”

  
“This isn’t gonna make me give up, though. He’s intriguing.” Ten shakes his head. Jaehyun shoots him a warning look. “Be careful.”

  
Johnny finishes out his set with a song that’s louder, faster than the others, one that has most of the people in the bar nodding their heads to the tempo.

  
Ten approaches as Johnny’s packing his things back up, sitting on the edge of the stage. “Need any help?”

  
“No,” answers Johnny shortly.

  
“Fuck, okay. If you tell me what I did wrong can I try and make it up to you?” Ten huffs. Johnny eyes him with the suggestion of a smile, laughing through his nose.

  
“You know you talk to people like you were a crack baby whose grandparents were too tired to raise you properly?”

  
“Fair enough. Your music is sad as shit, though, I’m gonna ask again if you’re okay.” Ten raises his eyebrows. Johnny laughs aloud this time, coiling one of the cables from his pedals.

  
“I’m managing, thanks. My music is sad because I’m sad, isn’t that crazy?” Johnny coils up a second cable and shoves them both into his backpack, followed by the pedals.

  
“Are you gonna kill yourself? Some of that stuff was real miserable.”

  
That makes Johnny pause. There’s a definite shift in his demeanor when he carries on zipping up his backpack, moving more slowly now. “No.”

  
“I’m gonna take your word for it, you better not be lying. Do you think about it?”

  
“Are you a fucking therapist?” spits Johnny. Ten shakes his head, “Just skipping the icebreakers.”

  
“This is one fucking dumpster fire on a train to the shitshow of a first impression you’re giving me, Ten, I gotta tell you,” Johnny grumbles. Ten grins. “I like when you say my name. Answer the question.”

  
“No.”

  
“No, you don’t think about it, or no, you won’t answer the question?” Ten tilts his head to one side. Johnny lays his guitar carefully into its case, shrugging.

  
“No, I won’t answer that.” Johnny shuts the case, and Ten shrugs. “Fair enough. I’m just gonna keep asking questions, that’s all you gotta say if they’re uncool. How old are you?”

  
“That’s fucking _it_ –“ Johnny throws his hands up, then smirks at Ten’s wide eyes, terrified expression. “Kidding, I didn’t even hear you. What was the question?”

  
“You’re an asshole,” Ten grits his teeth, clenching his fists. “You can’t do that to people when you’re as scary as you are, I almost pissed my fucking pants. I asked how old you are.”

  
“Wimp,” Johnny quips, snapping the clasps on his guitar case down then digging in his pocket for the key to lock it. “Also, I’m twenty-two. And I go back on saying no to you helping me. Wanna take this while I carry this amp and shit? None of it is even heavy, I’m just tired.”

  
Ten watches Johnny point to the guitar case, then smiles. “Yes. But. I have more questions.”

  
“If I recall, I was letting you ask them just fine. Tell me how old you are, though.” Johnny rolls his eyes. Ten can’t help but admit the elder is attractive, even in spite of his attitude souring such delicate features.

  
“Twenty-one. How long have you been depressed?”

  
“I was diagnosed when I was seventeen,” Johnny answers robotically. Ten hums. “That’s not what I asked.”

  
“Man, I don’t know, since a little kid. Just didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to feel like that until later.” Johnny picks up his amp and guitar stand, watching Ten lift his guitar case with an almost protective expression. Ten doesn’t blame Johnny; the guitar inside looked expensive, unlike everything else about Johnny. (Everything but his face, Ten thinks.)

  
Ten gets the straps on the case onto his shoulders, and he grins triumphantly at Johnny, who blinks in return. “Next questions,” he asserts as they start toward the exit. Johnny hums, and Ten notes the way his skinny arms flex as he shifts the gear he’s holding to one hand to wave bye to Taeil.

  
“How did you get into music and songwriting? Are you self-taught or no?”

  
“Self-taught on guitar. I had a music background already, I played piano when I was younger,” Johnny murmurs, leading the way through the parking lot to a beat-up, black two-seater truck. “That was what got me into working with music and playing guitar, my instructor for piano encouraged me to keep playing more instruments after I stopped taking lessons or whatever and I took up songwriting as well. I was in a shitty high-school band for a while, then I quit that and now I just put my stuff on Bandcamp and play gigs in bars after crying in my car.”

  
“Turn that into a song,” Ten comments dryly, and Johnny snorts. “I was just thinking that, but unironically.”

  
“It wouldn’t be bad, you’re pretty talented. Do you date? I promise I’m not hitting on you with that.” Ten finds that as he says it, he’s being completely honest. As of right now, he doesn’t really care if Johnny is single or not—he’s just surprisingly easy to talk to, makes Ten comfortable in his presence without trying. 

  
Johnny opens up the door of his truck, cranking the seat forward so he can stick the amp in, laying his guitar stand on top. He turns to Ten with an expectant expression, waiting on Ten to hand him the case, then goes, “Actually, I’m sorry, can I just..”

  
Johnny reaches tentatively towards the case, and although he only has a vague idea of what Johnny means, Ten nods. Johnny’s taller up close, chewing on his lower lip as he takes the handle on his guitar case, leaving Ten free to slip his arms from the straps and move out of Johnny’s way.

  
“Sorry, I just get..anxious about dropping it and stuff, that’s the most expensive thing I own and it earns me most of my money–“ Johnny rambles to Ten once he’s done, with lots of care, loading his case into his truck after the amp.

  
“No worries, I get it.” Ten reaches out and gently touches Johnny’s arm, unsure of how the elder will react. He doesn’t expect the tension in Johnny’s shoulders to drop slightly, and Johnny even leans forward into Ten’s touch for just a moment before regaining his composure.

  
“Please..don’t do that,” Johnny tells Ten in a meek voice.

  
“Can I ask why not? You seem like you need it.”

  
“That’s exactly why not. I don’t.” Johnny sniffs in disdain, leaning back against his truck.

  
“I may not be a therapist or doctor, but you seem pretty touch-starved, dude. Don’t all humans need physical contact or some shit?” Ten quirks an eyebrow. Johnny’s expression is unreadable, and it’s just like before, their oddly comfortable rapport broken by something Ten said, a line he didn’t know he crossed.

  
“Thanks for helping, Ten.” Johnny takes his keys out of his jacket pocket, sighing. “I’ll see you around or something.”

  
“Will you?” Ten narrows his eyes. Johnny ignores Ten, readjusting the seat and climbing into his truck. “Goodnight, Ten.”

  
“Wait! You didn’t answer my last question.” Ten crosses his arms. Johnny pauses as he’s about to swing his door shut, heaving another sigh.

  
“I could say no and leave it at that or say no and give you the reason why, but is that even what you want to hear?”

  
“I don’t care if it’s yes or no, backstory or no backstory, I just want you to answer it. Having agreed to this and all. So, do you date?” Ten smiles. Johnny stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowed.

  
“Fine. No, I don’t date. Right now. I can’t even care about myself, let alone another person.“ Johnny stops short like he hadn’t meant to say that aloud, and stares nervously at Ten for a moment.

  
“I’m gonna go, you should too. It’s late. Goodnight,” Johnny tells Ten, pulling his door shut. Ten can only stand back and watch as the truck rumbles to life and pulls out of the parking lot.

 

 

Johnny’s been in his room long enough to attract the concern of his roommate, whose sleeping habits are just as bad.

  
“You’re going on hour eighteen here. Trying to set a record or something?” Jeonghan drawls, leaning in Johnny’s doorway. “You look really pathetic right now, by the way. Want me to take a picture and show you how fucking pitiful you are?”

  
“No, fuck you,” Johnny grumbles into his pillow. “I’m fucking tired.”

  
“We all are. You work today, though.”

  
“When?” Johnny groans loudly. Jeonghan laughs. “You’re lucky I glanced at the schedule when I was getting coffee. Your shift starts in like, forty-five minutes.”

  
“What? I hate you, I fucking hate you.” Johnny jolts up and rolls out of bed.

  
“Me? I didn’t do anything!” protests Jeonghan, and Johnny makes a vague noise. “Not you, I’m talking to myself.”

  
“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse, Johnny!” Johnny hears Jeonghan complain faintly as he lopes to the bathroom to wash his face, brush his teeth.

  
“How about neither! Don’t get invested in worrying about me!” Johnny yells over the water running. If Jeonghan responds, he doesn’t hear it.

  
Johnny pulls on his cleanest work outfit and then his shoes, noting the holes in them and praying he’ll have enough money left over after bills and rent this month to get new ones. Winter is coming, and these ratty Vans are definitely not going to suffice.

  
“Don’t cry on the clock today,” Jeonghan tells Johnny, making his way to the living room as Johnny grabs his keys and opens the front door.

  
“I’ll do my best. No promises.”

 

 

Of all jobs Johnny could’ve gotten, he’s pretty sure waiting tables is his own personal hell.

  
“Can I get you ladies anything else tonight?” Johnny asks the trio at one of his tables. One of them bats her lashes at him.

  
“Your number and the check would be nice,” she purrs. Johnny doesn’t react one bit, answering blandly, “I’ll be back with your bill.”

  
“If I get one more old fuckin’ lady hitting on me tonight I’m gonna snap. I swear my section is fucking cursed tonight,” Johnny grumbles, mostly to himself, but also to the wide-eyed kid currently standing as a host. His nametag reads ‘Renjun’ and he looks a little frazzled. Johnny doesn’t recognize him, so he must be a newer hire.

  
“Don’t mind me,” Johnny tells Renjun, printing out the bill. “Just suffering through my shift. I was ten minutes late, so everything’s fucked up now.”

  
“So you’re the insufferable asshole that never clocks in on time, to quote Taeyong?” Renjun queries. Laughing, Johnny nods. “Yeah, that’s me. I usually do it just to make him mad. As if he’s never clocked in at like, 8:05 instead of 8:00.”

  
“Taeyong would clock in an hour early if he could. Not even for the extra money, just to be sure he’s on time.” Renjun rolls his eyes, messing with a stack of menus in front of him.

  
“You’ve got that right. Later,” Johnny grumbles, making his way back over to the table. He sidesteps the manicured hand that creeps towards his thigh and bites his tongue as he practically tosses the bill onto the table and begins clearing dishes. This time, he doesn’t see the woman’s hand, and a firm grip on Johnny’s thigh, far too close to his crotch, makes him jump. Johnny drops one of the plates he’d been in the middle of stacking onto the pile in his hands, and sighs in defeat before it can even shatter against the floor.

  
“Don’t touch me,” he says, hoping his voice isn’t shaking too badly.

  
“I’ll clean it up,” one of Johnny’s coworkers, a quiet bus boy named Sicheng, offers, the tub of dirty dishes he’s holding braced against his hip. “Put those in here, too.”

  
Placing the plates he’d been holding into the plastic bin, Johnny frowns at the shattered ceramic on the floor. “You don’t have to, I made the mess-“

  
“I got it. Go take your break or something, Lee left for the night so you can take all thirty minutes at once instead of having to split it. He’s intolerable, I swear.” Sicheng rolls his eyes. Johnny thinks this is the most the younger’s ever said to him at once.

  
“Thanks,” Johnny mutters, stalking off.

 

 

“You’re shaking.”

  
“The fuck are you doing here?”

  
Ten looks only a little taken aback, hands shoved into his pockets. “My roomie works here, he recommended the baklava and coffee. You work here too?”

  
Johnny peers down at his work uniform, then at Ten, merely huffing in a way that makes Ten feel just a little insignificant before dragging on his cigarette again. His hand is still shaking.

  
“Are you cold?” Ten asks.

  
“Fuck your roommate, by the way. Do you want a cigarette or something?” Johnny bites out as if he didn’t even hear Ten. Ten smiles. “Well, if you’re offering, yes. But I just saw you and decided to see how you were doing. Also, yeah, fuck my roommate.”

  
“How do I look like I’m doing?” Johnny snorts, handing Ten his pack of cigarettes and lighter.

  
“Poorly. How’ve you been in the three-ish days since we met?”

  
“Sleeping, mostly.”

  
“That’s a feeling?”

  
“With me, it is. I’m fine. It’s weird that you’re, like, worrying about me.”

  
“I mean, I wouldn’t say worrying about you. Definitely a bit concerned, but worry territory is for when you start driving on the wrong side of the road for fun and bringing vodka places in water bottles.”

  
“Been there and done both,” Johnny tells Ten, something blackened flashing across his expression. “I’m just plateauing right now. At a pretty shitty place, but at least it’s not getting any worse.”

  
“Definitely seems like it’s getting worse, but sure.” Ten lights his cigarette and hands the pack and lighter back to Johnny. “Thanks.”

  
“Yeah. So, Ten, do you have any invasive questions tonight?”

  
“Maybe. Why, do you feel like talking about yourself?”

  
Scoffing, Johnny blows some smoke out. “Not particularly. It’s just distracting, talking to you, and s’not my fault you’re nosy.”

  
“Flimsy, but I’ll take it. So, who do you date? Girls? Boys? Those of the gender-variant realm?”

  
Johnny actually looks the tiniest bit amused for once as he answers, “I’m bi, I guess, if there’s gotta be a label. I’d really date anyone if they’re cool. I’ve dated more girls than guys, though.”

  
“Still valid. Also, no labels needed, ‘m just curious. Do you have a preference?”

  
“Nah. Next?”

  
“What kind of person do you pretend to be? I would ask what kind of person you are, but all I’ve seen so far is a prickly asshole, and that can’t work on everyone.”

  
Johnny’s eyes widen a little, and he laughs. “That’s a big one. You sure you wanna see the I’m Totally Fine And Not Ready To Scream At All Times mask?”

  
“Absolutely.” Ten grins. Johnny quirks an eyebrow, then composes his face into an impressive expression of utter calm, lips curved upwards in a wan smile. “This would be more convincing if my dark circles weren’t permanent by now, but you get the idea. Ask me how I’m doing.”

  
“How ‘ya doing?”

  
“Really good, actually,” Johnny answers with enthusiasm that would be convincing if Ten didn’t know any better. “I’m picking my GPA back up, so that’s good.”

  
“Really?”

  
Johnny’s face drops into the expression Ten already knows best; miserable, lidded eyes, furrowed brows, pouting lips. “No. They’re probably gonna kick me out of college if I keep not going to my classes.”

  
“Huh. Well, thanks for that. Now I know how to tell when you’re lying. Anyways, give me a minute to think of some more questions.”

  
Johnny has the expression of a man who just realized he was tricked, and Ten watches him twitch his nose irritably, then take out another cigarette in bitter silence.

  
“How long have you been smoking?” Ten asks, prompted by the twig Johnny sticks between his teeth. Johnny cuts his dark eyes toward Ten as he lights it.

  
“Since I was eleven, give or take. I stole cigarettes from my mom for ages.” Johnny shrugs. “I honestly hate the way cigarettes taste, but I’m already addicted to nicotine, and you’d catch me performing my shitty music for the President before fucking vaping.”

  
Ten finds himself laughing aloud. “Have you tried the gum? Or patches? Like a normal person?”

  
“Nope. I’m just gonna keep on keeping on.” Johnny shrugs, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Go get your fuckin’ baklava. I’m on my break, I’ll be here when you come back out.”

  
“I see you trying to get me to leave you alone. You could’ve just said so.” Ten shoots Johnny a coy smile before stepping into the restaurant. Through the window, Johnny flips him off.

  
When Ten returns with a small takeout box of flaky, honey-flavored goodness, two forks, and two coffees, Johnny eyes him skeptically.

  
“You’re awful skinny, you know. The other night, at the bar, your shirt was hanging low and I could like, see your ribs or what the fuck ever this chest bone is called.” Ten points to his own sternum. “How much do you even weigh?” Ten sips his coffee. Johnny screws his face up in confusion.

  
“I can’t fucking figure you out. I don’t know, it’s not like I check. I weigh, like, not enough.”

  
Ten sips his coffee. “Figures. You’re how tall?”

  
“Six-two? Maybe taller? Again, I do not know.”

  
“Dude, you’re way too big to look like you have a BMI of about twelve.” Ten raises his hand as if to whack Johnny on the arm, just a habit with friends. But Johnny flinches, and Ten feels something hot and strange pass through his insides as fast as lightning.

  
“I don’t starve myself or anything, I just..forget to eat.” Johnny shrugs, taking the coffee Ten brought out for him.

  
“Have you eaten today?”

  
“Come again?”

  
“ _Seriously_. Do you ever eat?”

  
Johnny shoots Ten a look and sips his coffee. He won’t answer, fine. Ten takes a bite of his baklava.

  
“D’you have any siblings? Where’d you grow up?”

  
“Suburbs outside Chicago. I’ve got a little brother a few years younger than me, I haven’t seen him in a while,” Johnny laughs, taking the fork Ten thrusts towards him. “You know those studies on how good, smart kids turn into depressed adults? That’s me.”

  
“Elaborate?”

  
“When I was a kid, I got a good education ‘cause my folks could afford it, so of course my entire family treated me like fuckin’ Einstein for getting good grades. I spent my whole young life being told how smart and good at shit I was, then I reached, like, eighth grade and realized I was definitely just average. I barely made it through high school; I had to repeat my junior year, and by my senior year I was basically just a younger and stupider version of how I am now,” Johnny rambles. “That was when the drinking vodka from water bottles and driving on the wrong side of the road occurred.”

  
“Did anything ever happen?” Ten can’t help but ask, a feeling akin to nausea settling somewhere between his diaphragm and his heart. Johnny tenses.

  
“Yeah. Anyways.”

  
“Do you think you’ll ever wanna talk about it?” Ten presses, hoping Johnny doesn’t shut down again.

  
“I don’t know. It makes me tired.” Johnny sighs. “Can we move on from this?”

  
“Yeah, I’m sorry. D’you like animals?”

  
“I mean, I guess. My roommate’s got a cat that’s pretty nice.”

  
“Hm. Why were you shaking, when I walked up?” Ten takes a deep breath and leans against the wall beside Johnny, flicking ash off of his cigarette.

  
There it is again. Johnny goes rigid, biting down on the filter on his own cigarette for a moment before sighing heavily through his nose. “Just customers being assholes, shit I deal with regularly.”

  
“You seemed a little shaken up. That’s all it was?” Ten looks over at Johnny, who continues to stare straight ahead, Adam’s apple bobbing.

  
“This fucking woman comes here most weekends when I’m working, it’s like she has my schedule figured out by now and I keep begging them to change my shifts but the managers just tell me to shake it off or switch sections with someone, they don’t get it. She asks for my number all the time even though she’s, like, forty-seven, and she like, straight up grabbed my dick when I brought the check to her table tonight, and–ugh,” Johnny chokes, bringing the back of one hand to cover his mouth as he leans over, bracing the other hand on his knee. His chest heaves for a few moments, and Ten worries that Johnny’s going to throw up until the elder straightens back up, tear tracks glittering on his cheeks now.

  
“I’m trying to secure another job so I can fucking leave this one, because I hate it anyways. But I don’t have anything solid enough.” Johnny’s voice is remarkably steady, even as the tears keep flowing. “And I don’t know what else to do, it’s not like the police would give a fuck, they have more important things to deal with than some bitch flirting.”

  
“You said sexual harassment wrong.” Ten crosses his arms, frowning. He aches to hug Johnny, to comfort him, but Ten remembers all too clearly what Johnny had asked of him the last time Ten touched him.

  
“That’s what everyone tells me. Harmless flirting, suck it up, take it as a compliment. It makes my fucking skin crawl.” Johnny shudders, flicking his cigarette butt away. He opens his mouth to speak again, but the doors to the restaurant open then, and a group of older women walk out, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Ten can practically feel Johnny freezing over once again, as icy and impenetrable as he’d seemed when they first met.

  
“I was wondering where you went!” one of the women simpers to Johnny, walking closer. Ten feels a hand fumble for his, and while he’s surprised, he links his fingers with Johnny’s and squeezes all the same.

  
“I’ve got to get your number eventually, handsome,” she reaches towards Johnny’s face. The pressure on Ten’s hand grows painful and as a last-ditch attempt to save Johnny and his own fingers, Ten stands on his tiptoes and presses his lips to the elder’s cheek before she can make contact.

  
“Who’s this?” Ten asks, playing with the collar of Johnny’s work shirt and sending his deadliest glare in the woman’s direction.

  
“I only remember the names of the regulars who tip, I dunno,” Johnny answers so coolly Ten can’t be sure if it’s a subtle dig or a genuine answer. One of Johnny’s arms slides around Ten’s waist like it belongs there.

  
“Is there something I can help you with?” Ten sneers at the woman who’s still standing there, expression shifted. “Move along.”

  
There’s a moment of silence, a stare-down between the two, and finally, she walks away. Ten tries not to take it too personally when Johnny just about shoves him away, pressed against the brick wall of the restaurant. His entire silhouette vibrates slightly, and Ten struggles for something to say. Finally, he settles on a question, like he’s been doing.

  
“Did I go too far with that? I’m sorry.”

  
Johnny cuts his eyes towards Ten. In the yellow light of the street lamps, Johnny’s features are thrown into relief, the line of his deeply furrowed brow sharp and his curled lip even more evident on a deadly cupid’s bow.

  
“It wasn’t my place, I know, I just wanted her to leave you alone,” Ten adds, avoiding Johnny’s eyes.

  
“It’s fine,” Johnny answers stiffly. “Thanks for that.”

  
“Are you okay?” Ten shifts from foot to foot, and Johnny gazes at him oddly.

“Quit being like that, you’re making me more anxious.”

  
“Like what?”

  
“Feeling bad. You helped.”

  
“Yeah but it doesn’t feel very good if I made you uncomfortable in the process,” Ten argues. Johnny sighs. “Listen. A few moments of that kind of uncomfortable is preferable to the kind of uncomfortable that comes with however long she’s been coming in to bother me.”

  
Ten sighs, and Johnny checks his phone. “My break’s up. Come keep me company while I clean if you want. Or don’t.”

  
“Do you not want to be alone?” Ten asks as he follows Johnny back inside.

  
“Hmm. Next question.”

 

 

It’s actually Johnny who gives Ten his number first. He uses one of the pens at the front counter to scribble it onto the back of Ten’s receipt, flourishes it proudly at Ten. Taking the piece of paper, Ten scans it then peers back up at Johnny.

  
“Just know that if I don’t call or text, it’s cause I got your number wrong. Your fucking handwriting, dude.”

  
“I don’t really care. My phone’s dead half the time anyways. Just, um.” Johnny shrugs, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Briefly, Ten wonders who Johnny’s emergency contact would be for work. Then, he wonders if anything has ever happened that required an emergency contact. So, that’s his next question.

  
“Who do you call in emergencies or whatever?”

  
“Doyoung, I guess?” Johnny glances at the clock. “I’m off soon. Probably gonna go home and cry.”

  
“So...wanna come to mine instead? You can have water, I’ll drink my shitty wine, we can chill. You can still cry if you want,” Ten offers, leaning against the counter. “You can meet my pet snake, she’s a ball python named Cinderblock.”

  
Eyeing Ten oddly, one corner of his mouth quirked upward, Johnny nods. “Sure. D’you have food?”

  
“Sure do. When’s the last time you ate?” Ten takes a seat at a table not too far from where Johnny stands, propping his feet up.

  
“Uh...dunno.”

 

 

“Are you hungry?”

  
Ten turns around in his kitchen and finds Johnny closer than they’ve been before. Johnny’s eyes are such a lovely brown, warm and flecked with gold. Johnny’s lips still taste like cigarettes when he kisses Ten, but Ten doesn’t mind because his probably do too, one hand carding through the taller’s hair.

  
“Is this what you think I invited you over for?” Ten murmurs against Johnny’s mouth. Johnny grazes Ten’s lower lip with his teeth, responding, “Is it not?”

  
“Not necessarily. I’m not opposed, though.”

  
“Cool.” Johnny’s lips travel towards Ten’s neck, and Ten hums, pulling away. “Don’t leave any marks,” he tells the elder, taking one of Johnny’s hands and leading Johnny towards his bedroom.

  
“Gotcha,” Johnny hums, quiet for a moment before asking, “How are we doing this? Um, I-“

  
“Me on top,” Ten answers swiftly, peering back at Johnny with a raised eyebrow. He’s surprised to find that the taller seems relieved. Ten enjoys the way Johnny looks like this, eyes lidded and peering at him with something glowing like embers of a fire.

  
Johnny quirks one side of his mouth upwards. Ten shuts his bedroom door behind them, and when he turns around, Johnny’s pulling his shirt over his head, leaving his black hair ruffled. Johnny’s body is all sharp edges, the ridges and points of his collarbones sticking out, begging to be kissed. Ten can just see Johnny’s ribs beneath fawn skin, leading down to a tapered waist and pointed hipbones. Ten eyes the dark trail of hair that starts and goes downward from Johnny’s belly button with a smirk.

  
Ten also sees a dark, jagged scar that runs along the length of Johnny’s left arm, ending at his bony wrist. On the inside of that same wrist is a more precise vertical scar that nearly reaches the crook of Johnny’s elbow.

  
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t stare, I’ve just only ever seen you in long sleeves,” Ten apologizes, quickly meeting Johnny’s eyes again. Johnny shrugs. “I mean, you’re gonna see them either way, I’m used to it. The big one is from a car accident. I’m sure you can figure how that happened. Uh, this one matches my other wrist, it was an attempt.” Johnny shows Ten the symmetrical scar on his right arm.

  
“I got inked so everything would be symmetrical.” Johnny points to a plain black line that runs down the outside of his right arm.

  
“That’s cool,” Ten comments, moving closer to kiss Johnny again. “Do you have more tattoos?”

  
“Yeah. I’ll show you later,” Johnny answers, pulling at the hem of Ten’s shirt and licking into his mouth. Pushing Johnny onto the bed, Ten pulls off his shirt and works on his belt. Johnny shimmies out of his own jeans, pausing and chewing on his lip when he gets to his boxers.

  
“Take ‘em off, babe,” Ten encourages, already free of his own pants and boxers. Johnny flushes a delightful red and does as he’s told. His dick is already half hard, resting against Johnny’s flat stomach. Crawling onto the bed, Ten settles between Johnny’s legs and leans forward to kiss him again. Ten smirks when he rolls his hips forward, his cock brushing against Johnny’s, and a quiet, desperate noise escapes the elder.

  
“Don’t waste my time,” Johnny tells Ten, something about his voice tighter than before. Ten hums and wraps one hand around Johnny’s dick, stroking slowly. “I’m building up to it. When’s the last time you did anything?”

  
“Like, yesterday, loser. I’m depressed but I still get off,” Johnny pulls a face, and Ten laughs, “Defensive! I just wanna make sure I prep you right!”

  
Johnny doesn’t answer, breath huffing out of him when Ten brushes his thumb over the head of Johnny’s dick. Then, Ten pulls away, reaching for a drawer on his nightstand and fumbling around inside of it for a minute. Johnny watches Ten retrieve a bottle of lube and a condom, sitting back on his heels.

  
“Hold that.” Ten grins at Johnny, setting the plastic condom wrapper on his chest as he pops the cap on the lube and squirts some onto his fingers. Johnny appears bemused, resting one arm behind his head and surveying Ten up and down.

  
“You’re hot,” Ten remarks, circling one slick finger around Johnny’s entrance. Something odd colors Johnny’s expression, but he just shifts on the mattress. “Hurry up.”

  
With a hum, Ten pushes his finger inside. Johnny sighs softly above him, and Ten kisses his thigh. “Okay?”

  
“It’s one finger.”

  
“I’ll just never worry about your comfort again, then.”

  
“That would be awesome, thanks. Can you make this quicker and like, way less intimate?” Johnny asks, impatience clear in his tone now. A tiny shred of indignity slips through the want clouding Ten’s mind, but he just adds a second finger, moving his hand a little more forcefully to open Johnny up.

  
“B-better,” Johnny stammers, groaning when Ten scissors his fingers to open the elder up. “Fuck, another.”

  
“Already?”

  
“It’s not gonna kill me.” Johnny’s tone is challenging, so Ten does as he’s told, appreciates the keen it earns from Johnny. Fucking his fingers into Johnny at a steady pace, Ten asks, “This good enough for you?”

  
“Y-yeah,” Johnny responds, one of his hands traveling down to loosely stroke his dick.

  
“Ready yet?” Ten asks, curling his fingers inside Johnny and feeling the elder arch off of the bed.

  
“Yeah, I’m good.” Something hits Ten’s chest, and Johnny peers innocently at him as Ten picks up the condom and tears open the wrapper.

  
“Tell me if it hurts,” Ten tells Johnny as he’s putting he condom on, spreading more lube over his dick and pressing the head to the elder’s entrance. Johnny pulls Ten closer with a hand on the back on his neck, kissing Ten and humming in impatience. Ten licks into Johnny’s mouth as he presses in, feeling Johnny’s breath hitch. The elder’s thighs squeeze Ten’s waist a little and when he pulls back to see Johnny’s face, there’s a furrow between his brows. Johnny chews on his lower lip once Ten’s all the way inside.

  
“Need a moment?” Ten murmurs, pressing his lips to Johnny’s collarbones. He’s tempted to suck on the pale skin there, leave a bruise, but it seems only fair that Ten leave Johnny unmarked, considering it’s the rule he’d set for the elder and himself.

  
“You’re fine,” Johnny breathes after a moment, and Ten appreciates the little whimper Johnny lets out when he shifts his hips to get better leverage. Ten is careful in pulling nearly all the way out and pushing back in, but Johnny still sobs, covering his mouth with one hand.

  
“Are you sure?” Ten worries, and Johnny grabs his hip before the younger can pull out. “I’m positive, just go slow for a second.”

  
When Ten’s finally fucking Johnny at a steady pace, gripping the elder’s thighs, he notices Johnny’s wet lashes, the choked edge to his moans. Ten starts to slow down, frowning, but Johnny arches his back beneath him at that moment, long neck exposed for Ten to kiss. “Don’t stop.”

  
“You okay?” Ten presses his lips to Johnny’s and thrusts into him faster than before. Johnny kisses Ten for a minute, desperation searing in the frenzied way he bites on Ten’s lower lip and slides their tongues together.

  
“S-so good,” Johnny stutters, “I’m gonna cum.”

  
“Fuck, wait on me,” Ten huffs, tucking his face into Johnny’s neck and speeding up his thrusts. Johnny cries out beneath him, beginning to ramble, “Fuck, fuck that’s good right there, Ten fuck _oh_ _my_ _god_ –“

  
“Don’t cum yet,” Ten warns. Johnny drags dull nails down his back, and Ten gets a look at his face, the way Johnny looks up at him with wide, glazed-over eyes, tears still clinging to his lashes and rimming his eyes. His lips are swollen, nose and cheeks red.

  
“I can’t–“ Johnny squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, letting his head fall back onto the pillow and sobbing a few more times. He arches beneath Ten, who holds Johnny’s hips down and fucks him despite the way Johnny whines and clenches around him.

  
“Fuck, fuck,” Ten grits his teeth, finally blowing his load into the condom. Johnny winces when the younger pulls out, slowly sitting up on his hands.

  
“Do you want to st-“

  
“I, um. I think I should go.” Johnny’s not looking at Ten anymore, widening his eyes slightly as he peers towards the doorway. Taken aback, Ten laughs. “You–what? Come again?”

  
“I’m gonna go,” Johnny answers, cutting his eyes towards Ten with a weird caution clouding them, making them hard to read as he gets off of the bed and starts picking his clothes up, putting them back on piece by piece.

  
“Oh. Okay.” Ten tries to hide his frown, his confusion. “Why?”

  
“I need to think for a bit, okay?” Johnny sighs, buttoning his pants and picking up the sweater he’d been wearing. “Text me or something, I just need to go.”

  
“You better answer,” Ten threatens halfheartedly. Johnny doesn’t even offer a smile as he walks out of Ten’s room.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, their story hasn't ended as abruptly as Ten thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna try to space these updates out to allow myself time to write more chapters. we learn more about johnny in this chapter!
> 
> TW mentions of past suicide attempts and discussion of self harm, suicidal ideation, and mental illness in this chapter

So, nearly two weeks have passed. Ten’s heard nothing from or of Johnny. He’s starting to assume he should just forget the dude exists, but then Johnny comes in to play a set at the bar one night.

  
“What the hell?” Ten doesn’t stop shaking the drink mixer in his hand, eyes following Johnny to the stage.

  
“What the hell what?” Jaehyun comes over from the other end of the bar. Ten opens up the mixer and pours its contents into a glass, hands it off to his impatient customer.

  
“So. That guy,” Ten points to Johnny. “We talked for a while, like, then hooked up and stuff, and he gave me his number. I texted him but literally got radio silence for the past two weeks.”

  
Jaehyun widens his eyes slightly. “You guys fucked?”

  
“Yeah, but that’s not the point. Do I talk to him?” Ten tilts his head to the side.

  
“Why are you asking me? I don’t know the guy. Do whatever you want.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes and turns away. As usual, the younger is no help to Ten.

  
“Fuck it,” Ten mutters, walking from behind the bar and approaching the stage. “Hey, what’s up?” he asks once he’s close enough. Johnny startles, falling back on his butt, as he’d been squatting plugging his amp in and hooking up his pedals. He peers up at Ten with wide eyes, and Ten notes in the back of his mind that Johnny looks awful.

  
“Not much. You’re not mad, are you?” Johnny’s voice is hoarse, and he slowly clambers back to his feet, plugs his guitar in before turning on the amp. “Get up here with me unless you want this amp to blast in your face.”

  
Johnny holds out one hand to help Ten up onto the stage, although it really isn’t even that high up. Again, Ten’s reminded of just how tall Johnny is up close.

  
“Not mad. Just really confused, ‘n a little worried.” Ten folds his arms loosely, then thinks better of it and shoves his hands in his pockets instead–if he knows anything, it’s that anxious people are more perceptive to body language, and that crossed arms are usually a negative sign.

  
“Uh, I didn’t mean to disappear on you like that. Really. Um, some stuff happened, you know, with my brain.” Johnny shrugs, makes a vague hand gesture. “I’ll tell you more after this set, I’m playing a short one tonight.”

  
“Everything okay?” Ten frowns.

  
“Mostly. Go back to your job,” Johnny mumbles, adjusting his microphone stand and turning the mic on. Ten hums. “Promise we’ll talk?”

  
“Promise.” Johnny groans, waving Ten off.

  
Johnny’s set is short, a little longer than half an hour. He plays a few covers, a few of his own songs, voice rougher than usual. He’s still nice to listen to, and Ten finds himself wondering how much of his music Johnny actually records.

  
Ten doesn’t get to help Johnny pack his things up this time; the bar is busier tonight, and he’s stuck serving people while Johnny carries everything out to his truck. Thankfully, Johnny returns a minute later, making his way to the bar and leaning against the counter to raise an eyebrow at Ten.

  
“When are you off?” Johnny asks, and Ten glances at the clock on the wall behind him, frowning. It’s eleven now. “Two.”

  
“Gross. I’ll hang around for a while.”

  
“You have some explaining to do,” Ten reminds, pouring a glass of water for Johnny. The elder sips it, eyes going unfocused for a brief moment before he shrugs. “Oh, yeah.”

  
“So, uh, I was at a hospital. Took a little break. Everything’s okay, sort of, I just..yeah. Anyways, that’s all I’m saying about that. How’ve you been?” Johnny forces a smile.

 

 

  
_two weeks earlier_

  
The day has been off. Johnny woke up out of a nightmare, one involving screeching tires, to find that Jeonghan had drunk the last of the coffee. It’s not just things like that, though. There’s been pressure behind Johnny’s jaw, at the back of his neck, a tremor in his hands. This feeling halfway between nausea and a heart attack comes and goes through Johnny’s stomach in waves.

  
He zones out. Too often, and too hard. Johnny sits through a green light, thinking about the way the glass would shatter if he punched his bathroom mirror, and nearly floors it when the car behind him honks. He asks his professor to repeat a question to him during a lecture, only to learn there was no question asked in the first place. There’s a prodding in his skull like the idea of a headache, and Johnny only prays it’ll go away once he’s had coffee.

  
Coffee doesn’t help either. Johnny’s whole body shakes through his later morning lectures, and he ignores the looks of worried classmates as he takes notes in wobbly handwriting and prays he’ll be able to read them later. If he even bothers to read them.

  
There are a few things Johnny would rather do than go to work. The main one, and his first choice, is to die. Jeonghan tells Johnny he isn’t allowed to die before making his half of this month’s rent, though, and Johnny thinks that’s fair. His second choice is brutal self-mutilation, but that means disappointing Doyoung, and no money along with no shitty job. Quitting is an option too. Johnny’s working on that one.

  
It’s been a long shift, and a grueling one at that. Johnny’s on hour seven of nine, bussing tables in place of Sicheng, who had to leave early. He’s been snapped at by countless customers, probably all the same people who haven’t tipped tonight. Johnny’s just praying that he can make it to the end of this hour, and then take the second half of his break.

  
“We really need you to pick up the speed, Johnny,” Taeyong, one of the higher-up managers that Johnny should know but stopped listening about when he started working here, tells him as he passes by with a tray of drinks, headed towards a table of rich-looking socialite-types near the back. Johnny bites his tongue and pretends not to hear Taeyong as he picks up the bin of dirty dishes and carries them back to the kitchen to be washed.

  
“I’m gonna strangle Taeyong. I really am,” Johnny mutters to Renjun where the younger is pouring drinks to bring out to someone’s table. Renjun jumps a little.

  
“Is he driving you insane too?”

  
Laughing, Johnny crosses his arms. “I’m already fucked in the brain, but Taeyong’s gonna make me snap one of these days. He isn’t even here half the time.”

  
“He acts like you don’t know he’s scared of you. Gotta have a strong game face, right?” Renjun loads the drinks up on a tray and shoots Johnny a small smile before walking them out. Groaning, Johnny leans against the counter. He means to only stay there for a minute or two to regain his sanity, but then his eyes land on the knife holders. Johnny knows some of them contain the steak knives that customers use, but that the others hold the bigger knives meant for the cooks.

  
Johnny thinks. He looks at the knives, eyes tracing over their handles again and again, and then thinks about blood, dark, hot red. He starts imagining telling Doyoung goodbye, and that’s when Renjun returns to the kitchen.

  
“Some lady tried to throw her drink on me. We serve absolute animals here,” Renjun complains. Johnny jolts out of the trance he’d been in, hoping Renjun hasn’t noticed his longing gaze toward the knives. Judging by Renjun’s expression, he has.

  
“Everything okay?” Renjun asks slowly. Johnny nods and brushes past Renjun, out of the kitchen. Everything seems to fade in and out as he clears away a few tables, noise alternating between ringing in Johnny’s ears and all the voices in the restaurant talking over one another. Johnny gives his head a shake, trying to clear his thoughts, but it only causes a throbbing above his left eye. It seems that headache did come to get him after all.

  
“Johnny, this is the last time I’m going to tell you to speed up.” Taeyong follows Johnny into the kitchen. Johnny grips the stacked plates in his hands tightly, trying to ignore both Taeyong and the pain in his head.

  
“Are you listening? We have important customers here tonight and I can’t have you moving at a sloth’s pace-“

  
“Taeyong, shut the fuck up.” Johnny sets the plates down and rubs his temples. “Bitching at me isn’t gonna make me work any goddamn faster.”

  
The room is spinning at this point, and Taeyong’s expression has gone from angry to concerned. Johnny can’t tell if his mind is playing tricks on him or if he’s actually swaying where he stands, but then he stumbles a bit, and oh, he is. Taeyong’s voice is muffled in his ears when Johnny’s eyes roll back and he collapses.

 

  
Johnny wakes up in a hospital bed. His body is sore, mouth dry and stomach churning.

  
Johnny looks at his wrists and is shocked to find that instead of fresh, bandaged cuts, there are just his old scars on the inside of each arm. Not this time, it seems. He lets out a quiet “huh” and reaches for the call button by his hand.

  
A minute or so of waiting, and i nurse with a nametag that reads ‘Joy’ walks in. She offers Johnny a smile. “Nice to see you’re finally awake. Feeling okay?”

  
“Ish. Give me a refresher on why I’m here again?”

  
“You collapsed at work and had a seizure in the ambulance.” Joy picks up a clipboard at the end of the bed, glancing at some papers. “Wednesday night. It’s Friday afternoon now.”

  
“Cool,” Johnny nods his head. “At least no one dragged me in here in hysterics.”

  
“I..guess? This doesn’t mean you’re well,” Joy reminds. “We’re not really comfortable just letting you go now. We-“

  
“I know, I’ve been through this process before.” Johnny tries to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “You keep me monitored here for twenty-four hours, I act mostly sane, and you have to let me go once that day is up, whatever.”

  
Except, a 24-hour watch period turns into a psychotic breakdown and twelve days in the hospital. Johnny fails to remember little more than feeling frenzied one moment, and the next lying in a bed with his hands cuffed to the guardrails, drooling on the sheets from being sedated.

  
“Did they put you on anything?” Doyoung asks, voice gentle when Johnny meets him in the hospital lobby. Johnny eyes Doyoung up and down, cautious, before shaking his head no. Doyoung glances at the scratches all over Johnny’s arms, ones he gave himself, then the bruises where aides gripped Johnny too tightly as he broke down, and swallows the lump in his throat.

  
“I don’t even want to think about the fucking bill,” Johnny mutters, rubbing one hand over his face.

  
“We’ll figure it out together. Come on, do you want to go to mine for a while? It’ll be calm ‘n quiet.” Doyoung walks out of the hospital beside Johnny, twirling his keyring around one finger.

  
“Not really. I just want to go home and sleep for like, a day without being woken up.” Johnny scowls. Doyoung hums, visibly struggling on what to say. He seems to be arguing with himself, and it shows in the way he purses his lips, furrows his dark brows.

  
“Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

  
“Doyoung, I’m fucking exhausted,” Johnny’s voice breaks, “All I want to do when I get home is sleep, I swear.”

  
Johnny’s crying, which he’s already done plenty of, but he doesn’t care. It’s nice to be able to cry without being asked why, what triggered it, how he feels, and a million other questions. They get into the car in silence.

  
“Okay, I’ll take you home,” Doyoung finally replies, tone quiet. “Is Jeonghan there?”

  
“Doie, I don’t know,” Johnny huffs, and Doyoung makes a quiet noise, placing his hand palm-up on the armrest between them. “It’s fine, I’d just feel better if you weren’t alone.”

  
“What’re you gonna do if Jeonghan’s not home?” Johnny’s fingers twitch towards Doyoung’s, but he keeps his hands in his lap.

  
“I’ll stay ‘till he’s back. I don’t have anything going on today, I’ll just do homework in the living room or something. You can sleep,” Doyoung answers calmly, starting his car and pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

  
Johnny leans his head against the window. He feels as if he’s run a marathon while on zero sleep, and his stomach is churning, its only contents half of a tasteless apple from the hospital’s cafeteria.

  
“Feels bad,” he mumbles.

  
“Hm?”

  
“Talking to myself. How’ve the past two weeks been for you?” Johnny changes the subject, staring intently out the window.

  
“Stressful. School stuff, people, worrying ‘bout you. I’m not saying that to guilt you, either. I worry about you because I care,” Doyoung adds, tone sharp, before Johnny can protest. “Don’t even start your ‘I’m a burden to you’ speech.”

  
“Why didn’t you run screaming the second I went off the rails the first time?” Johnny laughs. “I’m a fucking wreck.”

  
“Because you’re still you? You’re so fucking sweet, Johnny, and intelligent, and I love listening to you play music and sing because you’re so good at it. I miss hearing you play piano, I miss you-“

  
“I’m a basket case, Doie,” Johnny cuts him off, laughing, and Doyoung grips the steering wheel tightly. “You’re not. You’re not the bad guy and it’s not your fault, Johnny. Whatever you try to say, it doesn’t mean shit to me, you’re not crazy, you’re mentally ill. I’m your friend because _I_ know all of this even if _you_ don’t wanna believe you’re worth caring about, okay? I’m your friend because I knew you before you were hurting this badly and I’m gonna be your friend when it doesn’t hurt so bad anymore, so just-just shut up.”

  
Johnny wipes his eyes, and finally reaches for Doyoung’s hand. Doyoung interlaces their fingers tightly. “I love you a lot, Johnny, you’re my best friend. I want you to be okay, and see you...not even happy. I know happy is a lot to ask. I wanna see you just okay, and stable, and then we can work on happy.”

  
Johnny’s quiet, searching his brain for the right response. Doyoung squeezes his hand. “You don’t have to say anything, I know it’s a lot right now. I’m still here.”

  
Johnny stares at his apartment building, then at Jeonghan’s car parked out front. He looks over at Doyoung. “Will you stay anyways?”

  
“Of course,” Doyoung answers automatically, pulling into one of the guest parking spots. Johnny twitches the corners of his mouth upward to show his gratitude, and Doyoung beams in return.

  
“I want you to tell me about your life. What’s good about it lately?” Johnny asks as they’re climbing the stairs to his door. He searches through his bag for his keys.

  
“Yuta wants to get serious, but I really need to tell him we’re only fucking. I still want you to meet him, he’s asked about you often. He calls you hot to annoy me.” Johnny can hear the bemusement in Doyoung’s voice behind him as he unlocks the door.

  
“Maybe. Not anytime soon.” Johnny runs his hands over his face.

  
“Hello? Someone come to finally take me out for good?” Jeonghan shuffles out of his bedroom in a t-shirt and boxers, dragging a baseball bat behind him. “Oh, ‘s just you. I missed you, Seo.”

  
Jeonghan drops the bat with a dull clatter that makes Johnny jump all the same, walking closer. “Can I give you a hug or no?”

  
Johnny doesn’t even have to answer, the way he stiffens enough to make Jeonghan smile and nod. “I get it. You can steal the cat from my room if you wanna hold ‘im for a while. He missed you. There’s coffee, too.”

  
Johnny nods and continues on to his bedroom, making a stop to pick up Jeonghan’s cat Woozi. The grey tabby cat blinks large yellow eyes at Johnny, purring loudly. He scratches under the cat’s chin and continues to his bedroom.

  
Johnny avoids looking at the marks on his arms as he changes into clean pajamas. Doyoung sits cross-legged on Johnny’s bed, rambling about work. He’s a caretaker at a nursing home, which Johnny can only imagine is the least glamorous job out there, but Doyoung seems to enjoy it, so whatever.

  
“One of our new residents has a grandson that he talks about all the time. Says he’d like me, so I hope the kid visits soon and I can see if he’s cute or not,” Doyoung pulls back the covers and lies down as Johnny comes over to his bed, crawling onto the mattress and letting out a deep sigh. Johnny feels a bit like a little kid being tucked in, the way Doyoung pulls the blanket over him and begins rubbing his back, but it’s soothing.

  
“What’s the grandson’s name?”

  
“Kim Jungwoo. Sound familiar?”

  
“Say it again? Didn’t catch that,” Johnny mumbles into his pillow. Doyoung cards gentle fingers through his hair. “Kim Jungwoo. Go to sleep if you want. I’ll stop talking.”

  
Johnny hums, and that’s the last Doyoung hears from him before the elder is asleep.

 

 

  
_present_

  
“Do you have any other friends? No offense. You speak of them, but they seem....elusive.” Ten walks out of the bar with Johnny, whose eyes are drooping.

  
“Doyoung’s literally about to pick me up. I shouldn’t drive home when I’m this tired.” Johnny crosses his arms. “I’m good to leave my car here, right?”

  
“Is it locked? Everything expensive out of sight?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Then yeah, you’re good.” Ten looks at his phone. There’s a message from his..friend, but mostly roommate, Taeyong.

 

_**2:02 a.m.** _

**taeyong:** dude I’m gonna LOSE IT

 **taeyong:** I have to fill out paperwork for this dude that nearly snapped in the restaurant a few weeks ago

 **taeyong:** this shit is too complicated I’m quitting and farming garlic

 **ten:** you’re so fucking intolerable and annoying you’re the physical manifestation of a fucking migraine

 **taeyong:** thanks

 **taeyong:** Seriously though my superiors are pissed at me for letting someone like that work at the restaurant and sorry but EXCUSE ME how was I supposed to know 

 **taeyong:** GOD at least he didnt like stab Renjun or something Renjun said he was eyeing the steak knives

 **ten:** not small boy :( wish he’d stabbed u

 **taeyong:** /:

 **ten:** ok but. was he fired

 **taeyong:** we’re too understaffed so sadly no but now I apparently need to keep a closer eye on him ugh

 **ten:** “sadly no” you’re an awful person with no compassion or empathy

 **taeyong:** maybe so but I’m not his fucking doctor and my restaurant isnt the place for this

 

Ten rolls his eyes and shoves his phone in his pocket just in time for a Nissan with a dent in the side to pull up to the sidewalk. Johnny glances over at Ten, eyebrows raised just slightly as if to say, see? I do have friends, asshole. The window on the car’s passenger side rolls down, and from inside, a guy’s voice asks, “Are you coming or just standing there?”

  
“Lemme finish my cigarette,” Johnny says as he’s sticking the thing between his teeth and lighting it. The car’s engine shuts off and Doyoung gets out, heaving a sigh. “You know you’re so lucky I love your ass and that’s why I let you constantly waste my time?”

  
“Oh, I learned how much you _love_ my ass in senior y-“ Johnny flicks some ash off of his cigarette, staring evenly into Doyoung’s eyes as the other slaps a hand over his mouth.

  
“Don’t be crude.”

  
“It’s funny,” Johnny retorts lamely from behind Doyoung’s hand, blowing smoke through the slits between Doyoung’s fingers. “Don’t make me bite you.”

  
Doyoung shrugs and turns his gaze on Ten, who waves with an awkward smile. Doyoung’s expression seems the tiniest bit off for a moment, then he smiles again, offering the hand that isn’t covering Johnny’s mouth for Ten to shake. “Hey. I’m Kim Doyoung.”

  
“Ten. You look familiar.”

  
“I think we shop at the same grocery store?” Doyoung tilts his head to the side and removes his hand from Johnny’s mouth in favor of winding it around the elder’s shoulders. Johnny leans his head back against Doyoung’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Ten makes a note to ask Johnny about that some other time.

  
“Probably. I’m beat, so I’m gonna let you guys go.”

  
Johnny’s eyes reopen and he waves at Ten, yawning widely. “Night. Good to see you.”

  
“You too,” Ten answers over his shoulder, already loping towards his car.

 

 

“God, it’s been so boring without you,” Renjun sighs in relief when Johnny walks through the restaurant door, a stack of papers under one arm. The elder looks at Renjun with an odd expression on his face, then shakes it off.

  
“Shit, kid. Didn’t realize I was the life of your party,” Johnny mutters, scratching at the mostly-healed scratches on his arm. He acts like he doesn’t notice Renjun’s eyes following the motion.

  
“Your commentary makes my shifts way more bearable.” Renjun shrugs. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  
“I’m not. I was hoping they’d finally fire me,” Johnny rolls his eyes. “Taeyong in?”

  
“I’m right here.” Taeyong approaches from a table with empty wine glasses in his hands.

  
“Great. Here’s your paperwork.” Johnny thrusts the papers he’d been holding towards Taeyong, despite the fact the other’s hands are full. Taeyong blinks at Johnny, who twitches an eyebrow and continues holding out the papers. Heaving a sigh, Taeyong mutters, “Hang on,” and goes to empty his hands.

  
“I’m giving it directly to you so it doesn’t get lost, like any other fucking paperwork I turn in here,” Johnny calls after him. “I haven’t forgotten the time off request you lost track of.”

  
“Are you ever going to let that go?” Taeyong returns, frowning up at Johnny.

  
“No, ‘cause I saw it in the trash the same day I turned it in and I submitted it ‘cos I had my brother’s graduation to go to. Are you gonna babysit me my entire shift?” Johnny asks after handing Taeyong the papers, striding towards the back to clock in with Taeyong following.

  
“This seems like a joke to you, Johnny,” Taeyong remarks, incredulous.

  
“Dude, you should be thankful that all I did was faint. It could've been worse.” Johnny runs his fingers over the scar on one wrist and faces Taeyong, expression blank. “It’s not a joke to me, but would you rather I go into detail about what exactly caused me to earn myself a hospital bill this shitty paycheck isn't gonna cover?”

  
When Taeyong is silent, Johnny laughs through his nose. “Exactly. I’m gonna go do my job now.”

  
“Fucking insufferable,” mutters Johnny, picking up a waiter’s apron to tie around his waist. Sicheng hums as he’s loading plates into the dishwasher. “How are you?”

  
“Living. You’re lucky you weren’t here that night,” Johnny deadpans. Sicheng shrugs. “I mean, I figured. Glad you didn’t die.”

  
Shrugging, Johnny shoves a notepad and pen into one of his apron pockets and heads out onto the floor to start taking orders.

 

 

Ten does his research. Johnny doesn’t have any social media other than an Instagram, which was last updated almost two years previously and only contains three posts in the first place. Ten keeps sleuthing to find Doyoung’s account, and swears under his breath when he finds it on private.

  
“Fuck it,” Ten says aloud, hitting the follow button and hoping Doyoung accepts the request. He’s pleasantly surprised when Doyoung accepts within a few minutes, and even follows him back. The guy does some pretty legit photography, or at least Ten thinks so when he clicks on one particularly nice picture of buildings against a pastel sunrise, only to find it captioned, ‘pic creds to my asshole best friend who deleted instagram three days after making his account i love u but fuck u johnald.’

  
Sure enough, the instagram user @seojohnny is tagged. Ten can’t help but laugh. Then he laughs some more, because considering the low angle the picture was taken from, Ten can only imagine what ridiculous position Johnny was in trying to get the photo.

  
Ten’s phone buzzes in his hand.

 

**8:56 p.m.**

  
**johnny:** can you come over please

 **johnny:** Imbsorry just no one is home and doyoung is at work and I’m like..going through it rn

 

Ten’s brow furrows slightly and he starts typing out his response.

  
**ten:** yeah of course just send the addy. you want me to call you?

 **johnny:** no talking on the phonemakes me anxious I’d just rather not be alone rn I’m sorry

 

A text with Johnny’s address follows, and Ten gets up, not bothering to change out of his sweatpants and old t-shirt. Grabbing his keys off of the counter, Ten responds to Johnny swiftly.

 

 **ten:** yes dont apologize i’ll be over in like ten minutes tops are you going to be okay until then

 **johnny:** I thinjk

 **johnny:** thank you

 

Johnny’s apartment complex isn’t far from Ten’s, and he makes it there in five minutes. Ten knocks three times, and waits an almost worrying amount of time for the door to open.

  
Johnny steps back to let Ten in, tears still rolling down his face. Ten spots yellowing bruises coloring his arms, and almost reaches out to take Johnny’s wrist, look closer, but he busies himself with untying his shoes and taking them off instead.

  
“Thanks. I don’t really know what to do now, there was no game plan.” Johnny shuts the door again, sighing and wiping his eyes.

  
“What do you need from me right now?” Ten sits down on the couch, patting the spot beside him. Johnny sits on the floor instead, the coffee table between them.

  
“Just talk to me, or something. Please. Nothing too, like..” Johnny trails off, struggling to articulate what he means. Ten waves a hand. “I get it. Tell me about your guitar. What kind is it? I know nothing about instruments.”

  
“It’s a Fender American Elite Telecaster. Long-ass name, but I’m really proud of it. It was like, two grand, I can’t even tell you how long I saved every fuckin’ penny to get it.” Johnny glances at the teal and black guitar sitting in its stand. “I have to name it eventually.”

  
“Sorry, two grand?” Ten makes a quiet wheezing noise. Johnny nods his head. “Good guitars are expensive. It was even more with all my equipment, like the amp and my pedals and stuff.”

  
“What do the pedals do?” Ten inquires further. Johnny likes talking about music, he can tell, and if Ten can distract Johnny with that, he’s happy.

  
“Different ones do different things. I use distortion and gain pedals, they’re what make my shit sound all crunchy.” Johnny runs his hands through his hair and brings his knees up to rest his head between them, silent for a moment.

  
“I was gone for two weeks because I was in the hospital, I think I told you that, I can't remember. I was in a psych ward.”

  
Ten raises his eyebrows. Johnny doesn’t look up, but he keeps talking. “I fucked up at work, blacked out while one of my managers was talking to me. I was supposed to just stay in the hospital for a watch period, y’know, to make sure I was stable or whatever. But my brain is a bitch and I’m weak, so. I had an episode. That’s why I disappeared.”

  
“What caused it? I know psychosis isn’t, like, a disorder on its own, right? It’s a result of other stuff.” Ten tilts his head to the side. Johnny hums. “Correct. I’m prone to it ‘cause I’m just generally super unstable, I guess.”

  
“Elaborate? Only if you want.”

  
“Yeah.” Johnny finally looks up, his expression miserable. “I have. Uh. Depression. Obviously. A mood disorder not otherwise specified. I get really manic sometimes, but it’s pretty rare. Uh, generalized anxiety, panic disorder, PTSD, the last doctor I saw thinks I have an eating problem because of how fucky my brain is too.”

  
“You’re not seeing anyone for this? Or taking medications?” Ten asks, frowning.

  
“Dude, I can’t afford it. I’m working on getting insurance, but you know how long that shit takes and it doesn’t cover prescription meds. There’s no way I can pay out of pocket for all the shit I need, plus a psychiatrist. I’m still trying to figure out how to pay this hospital bill.” Johnny shakes his head. “Suicide...is an option.”

  
“Suicide is not an option. Can I ask you a question I’ve asked before?”

  
Confusion clear in his eyes, Johnny nods, shrugging. Ten crosses his legs. “D’you think about suicide a lot?”

  
“What do you think?” Johnny laughs, a dry sound. “I thought you’d kinda know the answer at this point.”

  
“So you are suicidal?”

  
“Suicidal ideation,” Johnny corrects.

  
“Is there that big of a difference? One attempt that I know of. Self harm, too. How bad does it get?” Ten’s quieter this time, trying to meet Johnny’s eyes and failing.

  
“I’ve attempted too many times to still be on this bitch of an earth.” Johnny barks out a laugh. “My brain’s damaged from a couple of overdoses, I’m practically deaf in one ear ‘cos of it. I’ve flatlined a few times and they kept bringing me back, so I finally signed a fucking DNR.”

  
Do not resuscitate. It sends a chill down Ten’s spine.

  
“I know people would care if I died, but I don’t.” Johnny shrugs his shoulders. Moving off of the couch, Ten approaches Johnny and sits on the floor next to him.

  
“Can I just..give you a hug? I’m being selfish because it’s partly to make me feel better, but still.”

  
“I appreciate the honesty.” Johnny snorts, holding out one arm. When Ten leans in, he winds it around the smaller’s waist and hoists Ten into his lap with ease. It seems too easy, the way Ten wraps his arms around Johnny’s neck and pulls him in close, one hand gently playing with the short hair at his nape. Johnny tucks his face against Ten’s chest, nose brushing against Ten’s neck when Johnny pulls him a little closer.

  
“I’m gonna be here for you, you know.”

  
“I don’t want you to feel responsible for me,” says Johnny quietly. Ten strokes his hair and feels Johnny sag against him a little. “I know, I’m not your therapist. But I’m still your friend.”

  
“Thank you,” Johnny whispers.

  
“So you’re hard of hearing?” Ten queries, leaning back to look at Johnny. He nods, “My hearing in my left ear’s real fuzzy. ‘S why I ask you to repeat stuff sometimes. I can live with it, but not my shitty coordination. I was clumsy enough before, but something else not OD-related fucked my sense of balance ‘n like, equilibrium or whatever. I still get seizures sometimes. Not that often, but.”

  
“That has to be terrifying.” Ten frowns.

  
“I mean, yeah, I’m positive I’m gonna die each time, but y’know.” Johnny finally unwinds his arms from around Ten, leaning back on his hands. “You ask me a lot of questions and talk a lot and yet I don’t know anything about you other than your name is Ten like a dime, you’re twenty-two, you’re fucking nosy, and work at a bar.”

  
Ten doesn’t bother to move out of Johnny’s lap, and Johnny doesn’t make him. “Well, I’m apprenticing to become a tattoo artist on the side, I’m just about ready to get my license ‘n shit. I tried college a couple of times and it just wasn’t my thing, so I stopped forcing myself to do it. I’m a Pisces, I like long walks on the beach and I’m scared of fruits–“

  
“Now you’re just fucking with me.” Johnny’s lips curl upwards in a smile, flashing his teeth. Ten shakes his head.

  
“No, I’m really a Pisces.”

  
“Asshole,” Johnny groans, “I meant the fruit part.”

  
“Oh, yeah, no, I was serious about that. But I hate the beach.” Ten grins, shifting in Johnny’s lap. “You’re fucking scrawny, your hip bones are digging into my ass.”

  
“Your ass is bony. Tell me more.” Johnny lies back on the floor, resting his arms behind his head. He closes his eyes, and with his dark hair splayed out Johnny looks like he belongs immortalized in a Renaissance painting. Ten moves so he’s straddling Johnny’s stomach instead.

  
“I was born in Bangkok, Thailand. I came to Canada with my folks when I was twelve. They eventually moved back, I stayed. I visit during the summers or just whenever I can afford the plane tickets.”

  
Johnny reopens his eyes to stare inquiringly up at Ten. “Why’d you stay here? Thailand seems so much cooler.”

  
“It definitely is, in some ways. I’m proud of ‘n love so much of my culture, don’t get me wrong, but something I never was really able to understand was how much we tend to..look down on showing any emotion that isn’t happy or cheerful. Especially in public, or around strangers. Sometimes even with my family it feels hard to be really expressive. Here, no one cares if you walk down the street crying. Which is a good and bad thing in itself, but you know. It wasn’t good for me, ‘cause I was going through shit of my own. Plus, I have more friends here, ones I’ve had for a long time now. I only had a couple that I was really close with in Thailand.” Ten shrugs. “I guess I just felt like there was more in store for me if I stayed here.”

  
Johnny hums, nodding his head. “Do you ever regret it now that Trudeau’s more or less said fuck indigenous lives?”

  
“God, yeah, sometimes.” Ten scoffs, slowly standing up. “Have you eaten today? I can cook or we can order takeout or something.”

  
“Sorry, say that a little louder?”

  
“Did you eat anything today?” Ten repeats, holding out a hand and helping Johnny to his feet as well. “I can cook something or we can order takeout.”

  
“Oh. I was good today, I skipped breakfast ‘cos I was late for work but I had lunch. Can we eat the rich for dinner?” Johnny rolls his shoulders back. His shirt hangs loose on his frame, and Ten traces his fingers over the sharp jut of Johnny’s collarbones, the dip of his clavicle. Johnny seems hesitant, but he doesn’t stop Ten when the shorter moves his fingers down further, feeling his sternum and the stark lines of his ribs at the top of his chest.

  
“Yeah, but you should also still eat real dinner.” Ten takes his hand away. “This..is very not healthy.”

  
“Yeah, I know. Wanna go out and get food or something?”

  
“Are you up for that?” Ten asks, tilting his head to one side.

  
“As long as it’s somewhere quiet.”

 

 

They end up at the tiny, ancient diner a couple of blocks away. The only other customers there are an elderly couple in one corner, and they don’t even spare Johnny and Ten a glance when they walk in.

  
“What does a good day look like for you?” Ten asks as they slide into a booth, resting his chin in his palm and peering across the table at Johnny. The fluorescent lights emphasize Johnny’s sallow skin, the hollows of his cheekbones and his sharp jaw, pointed chin.

  
Johnny chews on his lower lip, thinking for a moment. “Huh. I guess not sleeping the whole day, paying attention in my classes or at work. Maybe actually remembering to write in my journal and getting some music written. Not thinking about bad stuff quite as much. There aren’t necessarily good days, just days where everything isn’t as shitty.”

  
“I hear you. And a bad day?”

  
“Oversleeping, zoning out a lot, weighing the pros and cons of killing myself. If it’s a really bad day, like, I hurt myself or have a seizure or something I usually call Doyoung because it’s better not being alone.” Johnny falls quiet when a waitress walks over to greet them. He orders a coffee despite it being nine-thirty at night. Ten gets a hot chocolate.

  
“Are the seizures bad?” Ten reaches across the table, his fingers brushing Johnny’s. Johnny retracts his hand, shrugging.

  
“They vary. Sometimes it’s as small as just, like, an absence thing where I stare off into space and twitch a little. Other times it’ll be a whole fit. Y’know, with the jerking and drooling and occasionally biting my tongue or pissing myself. It’s real glamorous.” Johnny laugh mirthlessly. “I try not to drive much ‘cos of it, even though they aren’t that frequent anymore, I don’t want to crash and hurt anyone.”

  
Johnny leans back, sinks down in his seat. “I..don’t wanna talk about this stuff anymore. It’s draining. I feel like I’m doing a psych eval or I’m just your walking trauma porn at this point.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Ten apologizes, trying to meet Johnny’s eyes. He finally catches their dull brown and tries his best to read everything behind Johnny’s guarded exterior. “You’re not my spectacle and I really am sorry I made you feel that way, no more talking about it. What d’you wanna talk about instead?”

  
Ten takes note of the tension that leaves Johnny’s shoulders, if only slightly. Johnny shakes his hair out of his eyes, shrugs again. He scans the menu, more to avoid speaking than anything else.

  
“Okay, well, have you ever had any pets?” Ten smiles a little. Johnny hums. “I had a dog when I was a teenager, he ran away though. Now I just harass my roommate’s cat, his name’s Woozi and he’s real fluffy.”

  
“Cute. You still need to meet Cinderblock, she’s surprisingly cuddly for a snake.” Ten’s hand reaches for Johnny’s across the table a second time. He isn’t surprised when Johnny draws his hand back a little, the elder’s eyes narrowing on Ten’s face.

  
“What’re you doing?” Johnny asks, suspicion coloring his tone. Ten leans his chin in the palm of his other hand, drumming his fingers lightly against the table.

  
“Looking at your hands. I never saw the tattoo on your finger before.”

  
Johnny hesitates for a moment before stretching one hand—his left—back out, allowing Ten to curl gentle fingers around his wrist and turn it palm-up. Playing with Johnny’s fingers, Ten traces the faded M.T. tattooed on the inner side of his middle finger.

  
“What’s that stand for?” Ten inquires. Johnny gives a sad little smile, eyes following Ten’s movements.

  
“Moon Taeil. He was my first boyfriend and the first person I thought I really loved, when we were both maybe sixteen or seventeen. He had my initials behind his ear, we did them when we were drunk and I thought we’d be together forever and shit. And then he moved away to college and things just kind of..fell through.” Johnny shrugs his shoulders. Frowning, Ten holds Johnny’s hand up to his. Johnny’s aren’t that much bigger than Ten’s, palms large where Ten’s aren’t, fingers shorter and thicker where Ten’s are long and slender.

  
“I’m sorry.” Ten slots his fingers in between Johnny’s callused ones, letting their hands rest intertwined on the table. “D’you think you still love him?”

  
“Definitely not now. There’s always gonna be some feelings left for him, but I wouldn’t call it love.” Johnny’s thumb brushes against Ten’s skin absentmindedly. “I’m not even trying to sound awful and corny when I say that I’m not really sure I can feel that shit the same way anymore.”

  
“I don’t think it’s corny. It’s hard to believe in love when life in general fucks it up for you.”

  
Johnny raises an eyebrow. “So you have your own tragic heartbreak story, then?”

  
“I wouldn’t call it tragic, but yeah, someone fucked up love for me for a long time. His name was Qian Kun, he was an exchange student, so I was fucked right off the bat...”

 

 

They stay, talking over food and hot drinks gone lukewarm until closing time. Ten hears bits and pieces of the better and worse parts of Johnny’s life, and Johnny learns more and more about the nosy little dime that seems determined not to give up on him, no matter what Johnny does. There are rare instances where something warm lights up Johnny’s face, or he laughs, flashing a dimple in one cheek and crinkling his eyes at the corners, but it’s gone as fast as it comes, replaced by his uniform sullen expression.

  
“Why don’t you come to mine? This time you can actually meet my snake and if you’re too tired to go home you can spend the night. We’ll have pillow fights and talk about boys,” Ten offers as they’re loitering on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, now dark inside. Johnny flicks some ash off the end of the cigarette he and Ten are sharing.

  
“It’s not that I don’t want to..”

  
Laughing, Ten gently nudges Johnny with his arm. “Dude, first of all, we’re adults, you’re not gonna hurt my feelings, and second of all, you’re probably drained, I expected you not to want to. Just wanted you to know the offer’s out there.”

  
Johnny stares at Ten from the corner of his eye, something unreadable in his faint smile. Smoke furls out of his nostrils like a dragon’s, and Johnny hands Ten the cigarette. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on it some other time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave feedback if you enjoy this fic!!!!


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> currently in a creative rut but im trying to work on this fic! i have big plans for her
> 
> TW: self harm and discussions of self harm as well as a mentioned past eating disorder
> 
> hughhghgh this story really does start to pick up in the next couple of chapters. also im gonna establish now that unless i make sure to specify otherwise there's at least a couple weeks or a month between each chapter because they're going to be a little less linear from now on i think

chapter three ????

Ten tries not to worry too much when another week of silence passes. He texts Johnny once on Tuesday, a simple ‘hey, you okay?’ to which there’s no response. Ten waits until Thursday to text Johnny again.

 

**3:47 p.m.**

**ten:** jyani  
i’m assuming you’re not dead or dying because i’d probably know by now but whatever you’re doing stop being a fruit and text me back

 **johnny:** You’re a homo  
I’m not dead, you’re right. I just wish I was  
I’ve actually just been cramming in homework that I really need to do  
I shouldn’t have gone back to college

 **ten:** you’re a homo too :P  
also just drop out like i did fuck college

 **johnny:** Touché  
Alright I’m going ghost again thanks for checking on me  
Oh wait Doyoung asked me for your number can I give it to him or no

 **ten:** yah that’s fine  
text me if you need company and make sure you’re eating BITCH  
bitch* i yell over text a lot sorry that was aggressive

  
A few text exchanges with Doyoung later and Ten is meeting him at the restaurant Taeyong manages, on Ten’s insistence that he could get them free food. Ten frowns, hums to himself in surprise when he realizes it’s the same one he’d run into Johnny smoking outside of some time ago, and he wonders how he’d missed that connection before.

  
“What the hell are you doing?” Doyoung demands before they’re even seated, narrowing his eyes at Ten. Raising his hands, Ten laughs a little.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“I mean with Johnny. He’s...not, like, better, but something’s changed. I don’t know what it is. He talks more sometimes, and he actually agreed to meet my friend Yuta after, like, months of asking.” Doyoung leans back in his seat, arms crossing.

  
“I’m not doing anything,” Ten lowers his hands, folding them on the tabletop. “I’m definitely not magically fixing your best friend. We just hang out, I talk to him ‘til he’s all talked out and then I steal his cigarettes.”

  
Taeyong brings by their drinks, shooting a long-suffering look at Ten over his shoulder as he walks away. Ten waves in return before meeting Doyoung’s gaze again. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing, because I don’t know either. We agreed I’m nobody’s therapist, my job isn’t to try and fix him, like I said, ‘m just trying to help and be a friend in the ways I know how.”

  
“Whatever it is, keep doing it. Sometimes..” Doyoung drags his fingertip through the condensation on his glass of water, frowning. “Sometimes I think I see a bit of him, really him, more often now. Do you? It’s when he laughs, not that fake asshole laugh he does, but–“

  
“He like, giggles,” Ten mumbles, eyes on Doyoung’s face. Smile appearing, Doyoung nods emphatically.

  
“He used to never stop smiling. I know that’s probably impossible to imagine, having met him now, but he really used to laugh at fucking everything. I even thought it was kind of annoying then, but now I wanna kick myself for not appreciating it enough. Also for never thinking more about whether or not everything was as okay as he made it seem.” Doyoung slumps in his seat, heaves a sigh. “He’s my best friend. It wasn’t..just overnight, you know? I watched it get worse and worse and tried to help but I just...couldn’t.

  
“We all thought it would be manageable at first, y’know? He was on a fuckin’ cocktail of different meds, but he was okay with it, and he did well. Not quite the same as he used to be, but he was stable and we were all grateful. His first attempt was..a shock, then, but in hindsight every single warning sign was there. That was, um, the first time he almost died. Even then, we all thought it would be okay, and that he could come back from it, but then there was a second attempt, and a third and a fourth. His parents gave up on him by the last one, kicked him out and removed him from their insurance and everything. All the resources he had—gone. And shit just spiraled. I almost don’t blame him for just not trying anymore.”

  
Doyoung’s eyes are glassy, and he’s quiet for a long minute. Ten offers his hand, palm-up on the tabletop, and Doyoung eventually takes it. He digs in his pockets with the other hand until he withdraws his phone. “Here—I have this photo album from a day we took his little brother to the beach a few years ago. God,” Doyoung laughs, “Donghyuck’s the physical manifestation of ADHD, but he's always calmer around Johnny, considering he practically raised the kid when their parents were too busy.”

  
Handing Ten his phone, Doyoung lets Ten scroll through the photos. Johnny is almost unrecognizable, with tanned skin and chubby cheeks bunched up by a wide, beaming smile. He’s sitting in the sand with his arm around the shoulders of a boy that looks to be a few years younger than him, who’s in the middle of laughing and flashing a peace sign at the camera. Ten swipes, and there’s a picture of Johnny lounging on a towel, a book in his hand and sunglasses on top of his head holding damp hair back. He’s looking just past the camera, probably at Doyoung, mouth opened as if he’s in the middle of saying something. There’s the big scar on his left arm already, but his wrists are bare, unmarred.

  
Something aches in Ten’s chest. He hands Doyoung’s phone back to him. “So where’s Donghyuck now? Why don’t they see each other?”

  
“He’s still in Chicago, where they’re from. He goes to school there, and the problem with visiting is the one all of our broke asses have. Money. Hyuck and Johnny talk on the phone still, but you know it’s not the same. Their parents could technically get Hyuck a plane ticket here like that,” Doyoung snaps his fingers, “but they won’t allow Donghyuck to see Johnny. It’s like they think he’ll catch the depression or Johnny's a bad influence or something.”

  
“Assholes.” Ten scoffs in disbelief.

  
“Yeah,” Doyoung smiles bitterly. “Sometimes I think it might be better, though, for Donghyuck to not see him like this. Does that make me a bad person? It’s just...Hyuck’s always been super sensitive to this stuff, it really affected him every time Johnny attempted. Johnny doesn’t forgive himself for not being the best older brother in the world, either, like this is something he can control.”

  
Ten squeezes Doyoung’s hand. There’s a long, pregnant silence before Ten finally speaks again. “I think he does know it’s something that’s out of his control, at least, for the most part. But you’re onto something about Johnny not trying anymore. If he feels like there’s nothing worth trying for, why would he? Right now, it seems like he’s just surviving for everyone’s sake but his own. He’s living ‘cause he knows some people would be sad if he died. I don’t doubt he’d have given up a long time ago if you’d gotten impatient and left. And I think underneath how miserable he is and how often he says he wants to die, he’s grateful for you, and the few other reasons he’s got to keep going.”

  
This time, the tears spill down Doyoung’s cheeks, and his lower lip trembles, eyes wide. Ten smiles reassuringly. “It’s about getting him to remember what he loves about living, y’know? I know he loves music-“

  
“God,” Doyoung sighs, “I’m sorry to cut you off, but he used to play piano, and it was so lovely,” his voice shakes. “Johnny could play without even looking at the sheet music, that fuckin’ showoff, anything from classical to the stuff Donghyuck or I liked. He’d write the sweetest songs, for guitar or piano and he made everyone smile when he played at open mics or even just busking in the city. I miss it so much, I dunno why he stopped playing piano.”

  
“See? He still has that love for music, I think it’s just gotten misguided, y’know? Almost the same as, like, it’s okay to listen to sad songs for a while when you’re feeling bad, but eventually you have to change the playlist or you’re just going to make yourself more miserable. I stalked your instagram, Johnny takes some pretty good pictures too, right?” Ten tilts his head to one side.

  
“Yeah, I’ve actually been looking into getting him a decent camera for his birthday or something, ‘cause maybe it would help, y’know? I just have to save the money.” Doyoung leans back in his seat, falling quiet as Taeyong returns to take their orders. Ten thinks Johnny’s lucky to have someone like Doyoung in his life.

 

 

  
“Will you come with me? I guess we’re all meeting at some bar, and I’m not in the mood to deal with Doyoung ignoring puppy eyes from this dude that’s apparently in love with him all night on my own.”

  
Ten can imagine Johnny pacing as he says it, hears the shuffling on the other end that suggests he’s doing exactly that as he talks to Ten on the phone.

  
“What time? I finish with my apprentice stuff for the day at like, six.” Ten holds his phone between his ear and shoulder, watching Johnny’s face materialize wearing a crown of vines and snakes in his sketchbook. His hand is getting sore, and Ten pauses, twirling his pen in his fingers instead. He wishes he’d listened when his grandma told him to stop holding his pencils wrong as a kid.

  
“Sorry, I had you on speaker for a second. Say that again?”

  
“What time?” Ten repeats. “I’m free around six, I’m doing tattoo stuff today.”

  
“Oh, like, eight. I probably won’t stay long anyways, so you don’t have to either if you don’t wanna.”

  
Ten smiles. “You’re like an old man. Yeah, I’ll go with you. Want me to just meet you at yours?”

  
“Yeah, stop by whenever. See you then. Thanks.”

  
Johnny hangs up before Ten can say bye, and it throws Ten off a little, but it’s okay. He sets his phone aside and turns to a clean page in his sketchbook, hoping to produce something other than Johnny’s sculpted features.

 

 

Johnny’s lounging on his couch, talking to Jeonghan about the latter’s relationship issues when there comes a knock on the door.

  
“You expecting someone?” Jeonghan goes to answer it before Johnny can even get up, so Johnny stays on the couch, one leg hanging off and the other hooked over the couch’s arm.

  
“Yeah, his name’s Ten like a dime.” Johnny sticks one hand up to wave as Jeonghan lets Ten in.

  
“You didn’t tell me your roommate was hotter than you,” Ten digs teasingly, nudging Johnny’s socked foot where it hangs over the arm of the couch.

  
“Sadly for you, he’s already in a miserable relationship with someone else. That’s Jeonghan, by the way.” Johnny sits up, scooting over to let Ten sit. Jeonghan glares at Johnny, picking Woozi up as the cat rubs against his ankles.

  
“It’s not miserable all the time,” Jeonghan informs Ten, “just most of the time. My boyfriend has a GPA of like, a billion, but all the emotional intelligence of a slug.”

  
“Mingyu is....how do you say..beautiful, but fucking stupid?” Johnny suggests, then sneers when Jeonghan glares at him. “Okay, fine, he’s not, but he really doesn’t have the range for an October Libra.”

  
“Don’t start, you know I don’t believe in that bullshit,” Jeonghan groans, rolling his eyes.

  
“ _Oh, I’m Jeonghan, I agree that the planets and moon have an effect on ocean tides and my fucking plants that I never water, but no effect on people’s personalities_ ,” Johnny mocks, getting up. “ _I’m Jeonghan, I believe in science and facts, because I’m an asshole._ ”

  
Ten notes that Johnny’s dressed nicer than his normal torn jeans and hoodie; he has on black pants that fit his thin frame surprisingly well, and a plain yellow t-shirt is tucked into his pants. The loose fabric contrasts with the belt cinched in at his narrow waist and creates a model-like silhouette.

  
“Well don’t you look nice,” Ten grins, watching Johnny slip on his pair of worn black boots. Rolling his eyes, Johnny grabs a black cardigan off the back of the couch and pulls it on. It’s several sizes too large, the sleeves covering Johnny’s hands and making him look small, swallowed up by fabric.

  
“No. You ready to go?” Johnny grabs his keys off the coffee table, twirling the keyring around his finger. Getting to his feet and stretching, Ten hums.

  
“Yeah, are you?”

  
Shrugging, Johnny opens the door and follows Ten out. Johnny doesn’t lean away when their shoulders brush as they walk, and Ten smiles to himself, considers it a small victory.

  
“Your car or mine?” Johnny asks, glancing at his truck and then at Ten. Shrugging, Ten digs in his pocket for his keys.

  
“Would you rather I drive?”

  
“Kinda. If you don’t mind.”

  
“Solved, then. Let’s go.”

 

 

The bar isn’t too busy, something Johnny seems grateful for. Doyoung waves from a booth in the back, and Ten finds Johnny’s fingers loosely interlacing with his as they approach.

  
“Hi, love,” Doyoung stands up to give Johnny a hug, which Johnny returns stiffly, though his small smile is genuine.

  
“Yuta,” Doyoung nudges the shoulder of one of the other guys sitting with them. “This is Johnny, say hi.”

  
“I’ve been waiting to meet you!” Yuta tells Johnny with a bright, cheerful grin, extending his hand for Johnny to shake. Fingers slipping away from Ten’s, Johnny grips Yuta’s hand and nods his head.

  
“Yeah, so I’ve heard. You are..?” Johnny’s eyes land on the other young man sitting with them, who looks up from his phone, doe-eyed.

  
“Kim Jungwoo,” he answers in a soft tone. Johnny leans in as he and Ten slide into the booth, cupping a hand around his ear.

  
“You’re gonna have to speak up, dude, I have the hearing of an eighty year-old,” Johnny deadpans. Jungwoo leans in closer as well, repeating himself more loudly this time.

  
Humming, Johnny nods his head and sits back, shoulder touching Ten’s. “Uh, this is my friend Ten, he’s pretty cool. Doyoung, I know you guys have met and hung out without me already, and frankly I feel excluded.”

  
“You’ll always be my one and only best friend, Johnny,” Doyoung reassures, his smile playful. Johnny pulls a face, shaking his head.

  
“Doyoung’s told me a lot about you. You’re a musician?” Yuta leans his chin in one palm, sipping his vodka soda and eyeing Johnny curiously.

  
“Uh, yeah, I do some songwriting and stuff.” Johnny pushes his hair off of his face. “I’m not as into it as I used to be, been caught up in school and work and stuff.”

  
“You’re still in school?” Yuta tilts his head. Johnny tenses a little beside Ten, his ears reddening. Yuta’s sudden grimace suggests Doyoung kicked him under the table, and Yuta’s quick to amend the question. “That sounded rude, sorry. I don’t always think before I say shit. I was just wondering if you were getting your doctorate’s or PhD or something.”

  
Snorting, Johnny shakes his head. “Nah. I just started college late. I’m barely scraping through my third year at the community college now.”

  
“Dropping out is still an option,” Ten chimes, and Johnny rolls his eyes. He doesn’t seem keen on carrying the conversation, so Ten picks it up effortlessly. “So, Yuta, what do you do?”

  
“I’m a statistics analyst, it’s a boring as fuck nine-to-five office job. I coach dance classes on some weekends though,” Yuta grins.

  
“Interesting. What about you?” Ten turns his gaze on Jungwoo, who’s been looking at his phone screen until now. Turning his phone off, Jungwoo shrugs.

  
“I’m in my third year of uni, I’m mainly focusing on that and work part-time at a bookstore.” Jungwoo flicks silvery blue hair out of his round, innocent eyes. A wicked smile curving Ten’s lips up, he rests his elbows on the table and leans in.

  
“Only part-time, huh? So are your folks trust-funding your way through school for you? Or someone else?” Ten inquires, tone light. Doyoung and Yuta exchange nervous glances, and Johnny elbows Ten gently, but to their surprise, Jungwoo smirks.

  
“I’m funding myself, actually. It’s amazing how much married men will pay you to do kinky shit on camera,” Jungwoo shrugs, stirring around his drink and taking a sip. Ten’s eyes light up, his smile widening into a toothy grin.

  
“Ooh, I like you already.”

  
“You rich whore!” Yuta marvels, while Doyoung simply leans around him to gawk at Jungwoo. Jungwoo grins.

  
“I didn’t see that coming. I’m gonna go get a water, you want anything?” Johnny murmurs in Ten’s ear, already slipping out of the booth.

  
“Cape Cod, with an extra lime wedge, please and thank you,” Ten singsongs. Johnny makes a gagging sound and slouches towards the bar. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Yuta groans, shaking Doyoung by the shoulders.

  
“You didn’t tell me how much hotter he was in person.”

  
“If you expected Johnny to look the same as he does in photos that’s on you.” Doyoung stirs his Bloody Mary with the celery stalk, shrugging. “Anyways. Is he everything you hoped and dreamed, Yuta?”

  
“He’s handsome. Tuberculosis chic,” Jungwoo deadpans before Yuta even has an opportunity to answer, leaning back and crossing his arms. “And he seems really uncomfortable. He isn’t real talkative.”

  
“Yeah, that’s just how he is at the moment. We’re working on it. He favors me and Ten to begin with,” Doyoung shrugs. Jungwoo mimics the motion.

  
“I wasn’t saying it like a bad thing. Just doesn’t seem like his character, to be all broody ‘n look like a Tim Burton animation.” Jungwoo finishes off his martini. “Am I wrong?”

  
“No, you’re not. How are you so good at that?” Doyoung scoffs, astonished. Jungwoo pulls the olive off of its toothpick with his teeth, answering, “I just pay attention. People are easy to read, honestly.”

  
Johnny returns then, setting Ten’s drink down in front of him. “I’m gonna go for a smoke, I’ll be back in a minute.”

  
His voice is tight, and Ten can see the rigidness of his shoulders, the stiff set of his spine, as Johnny walks towards the door. Doyoung watches him go, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously.

  
The conversation carries on, nothing of significance, for a few minutes. When Johnny doesn’t return, Doyoung and Ten both shift to get up. They meet each other’s eyes in what’s practically a silent rock-paper-scissors of who will go check on him, and Ten lets Doyoung win. While Johnny is the most comfortable around them both, Doyoung has known Johnny longer, and Ten keeps that in mind.

 

 

Johnny’s wrists are clamped tight in Doyoung’s thin fingers, keeping him from burning himself anymore. Johnny swears, tries to pull his arms free. Although he hates to do it, hates treating Johnny the way the aides in the psych ward do, Doyoung shifts his grip, digs his thumb into the soft part of Johnny’s hand until his fingers loosen and he drops his cigarette. Johnny gives up, leaning his head back against the brick building. When he was bigger, stronger, fighting someone of Doyoung’s build off would’ve been something Johnny could do with one hand, but now here he is, skinny arms lax in Doyoung’s grip and cigarette burns stinging his right forearm like crazy.

  
“It’s okay,” Doyoung soothes, letting go of Johnny’s wrists. Johnny pushes Doyoung away, but it’s feeble enough that Doyoung only takes a step backwards, and Johnny feels bad right after.

  
“How many are there? Let me see.” Doyoung holds out his hand. Johnny eyes it with suspicion that Doyoung doesn’t blame him for, but eventually extends his arm. Fingers wrapping gently around Johnny’s wrist this time, Doyoung inspects the multiple circular burns on Johnny’s already-scarred skin. Johnny flinches and hisses through his teeth when Doyoung brushes cool fingertips over the irritated skin at the edges of the burns, and Doyoung shushes him soothingly, giving Johnny’s wrist a small kiss as apology.

  
“I can take you to the hospital–“

  
“I can do it. If you could drop me off at home I'll drive myself.” Johnny shakes his head, retracting his arm and wincing when he rolls the sleeve of his sweater back down. “I’m sorry. I was trying to keep my shit together and I couldn’t.”

  
“Don’t apologize,” Doyoung murmurs, letting Johnny hug him with his uninjured arm. The taller leans his head on Doyoung’s shoulder, and Doyoung strokes his hair. “Did something happen? Someone say something?”

  
Johnny shakes his head, hands curling into the fabric of Doyoung’s shirt. “I really wanted to get a drink, when I was up at the bar. It’s so easy to fall back into, and it scares me, so I came out here and did this instead.”

  
“You need to talk to me when you feel unsafe,” Doyoung cups Johnny’s cheeks, making the taller look at him. “You know I’m here, and I know it’s hard to reach out, but I’m never going to yell at you or turn you away if you feel like this. Never, okay?”

  
Nodding slowly, Johnny blinks away tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. Doyoung shakes his head, shushing Johnny and leaning up to kiss his forehead.

  
“No apologies, it’s okay. Are you sure you’ll be okay to take yourself to the emergency room?”

 

 

Johnny swings his legs absentmindedly, looking around the bland office he’d been guided to and instructed to sit on the table, wait for a doctor. His arm is throbbing dully, but it’s a pain Johnny’s used to. Two quick knocks on the door make Johnny jump before the doctor lets herself in.

  
“Hello, Mr. Seo,” she says, offering a smile as she looks over the papers in her hands. “My name’s Dr. Seulgi Kang, I’m gonna be taking a look at you, is that okay?”

  
Johnny nods silently, chewing on the inside of his lip. Seulgi sets the papers down on her desk and takes a stethoscope from her pocket. “To start off, Johnny, your vitals are a bit worrying. One hundred ninety centimeters and sixty-seven kilos? That’s a dangerously low fat percentage for your height. How’s your eating?”

  
Johnny sits up straighter so that Seulgi can check his heartbeat, shrugging one shoulder. “It could probably be better. I forget to eat most days, don’t have much of an appetite to begin with.”

  
“I see,” Seulgi murmurs, listening to his heartbeat for a minute before moving to his back. “Deep breath for me..and breathe out. Your blood pressure is a bit low, too. I’d like to run a blood test for any deficiencies, but I’ll schedule that for another day. Breathe in for me again..”

  
Once she’s done, Seulgi takes the stethoscope from her ears, lets it hang around her neck. She puts on a pair of gloves before extending one hand, “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”

  
Johnny winces, tugs a little against her firm grip when Seulgi prods gently at the burns.

  
“What are these from?”

  
“They’re cigarette burns.”

  
“From someone else or self-inflicted?”

  
Johnny hesitates, then stares at his shoes when he answers, a quiet, “Um. Self-inflicted.”

  
“You’ve done quite a bit of damage,” tuts Seulgi. She opens up a cabinet behind her and takes out some supplies. “Second and third-degree burns just from a cigarette takes some dedication. I have to clean these out, and it’s going to hurt a bit, I’m sorry.”

  
“S’okay,” Johnny mumbles. He does his best not to flinch when Seulgi sprays the burns with disinfectant, wrinkling his nose at the sting.

  
“Do you have any history of hospitalization?” Seulgi glances at Johnny’s face. “Please be honest. There’s no judgement, I just want to figure out how to best help.”

  
“Yeah. I’ve been hospitalized for four suicide attempts and two or three more times for mental breakdowns.” Johnny stares at the burns. They somehow look worse now that they’re cleaned, the skin red and raw.

  
“Are you seeing anybody? A therapist, or psychiatrist? Taking any medications?”

  
“No.”

  
Seulgi hums, beginning to apply ointment to Johnny’s arm. “Well, let’s see what we can do to change that. Your records are showing that you don’t have insurance, is that still true?”

  
“For now, yeah. There’s a while until I get my card and the coverage actually starts. I really can’t afford to talk to somebody for seventy-five dollars an hour, so I appreciate it, but–“

  
“Just wait a second,” Seulgi says sternly, “I’m going to give you the number and address of a mental health facility close by here in the city. They have free walk-in evaluations from seven to nine on Tuesday and Friday mornings. They can be kind of busy because of that, but I have connections there so if I hear that you haven’t at least gotten your name on the waiting list we’re gonna have to duke it out on the rooftop.”

  
That earns a small smile from Johnny, and he nods his head, “Yeah. I’ll do that, thank you.”

  
“They’ll likely connect you with a therapist or psychiatrist, just to discuss treatment, and a nurse practitioner to discuss medications as well. For now, don’t worry about money, because nothing is guaranteed and we can also see what your insurance covers once it starts, boring adult stuff. When the time comes where you do have to worry about it, we’ll talk about financial aid options or other things we can look into, okay?” Seulgi finishes by wrapping Johnny’s arm with gauze, securing it with medical tape. “I’m going to give you the materials and instruction you need to take care of these burns, and if it doesn’t seem like they’re improving after a week or so, give me a call. Otherwise, I’m scheduling you for another appointment to check up and take those blood tests in exactly two weeks.”

  
“Gotcha,” Johnny answers. His chest feels oddly lighter as he watches Seulgi scribble something onto the back of one of the papers she’d brought in. Folding it up, Seulgi hands the paper to Johnny.

  
“My secretary will put your appointment in the books, so don’t worry about it when you check out,” Seulgi tells Johnny, bagging up the disinfectant, ointment, and some bandages for Johnny. “Remember. Name on the list or we’re meeting on the rooftop.”

  
As he hops off of the table, slipping his sweater back on, Johnny nods his head. “I’ll make sure to get in. Thanks for everything,” he says earnestly as he’s walking out. Seulgi grins back at him, waving goodbye.

 

 

 

 

“About fucking time you came over,” Ten drawls, letting Johnny in. “How’s your arm?”

  
“Gross. You wanna see it?”

  
“In a bit. Come on, you gotta meet Cinderblock.” Ten grabs Johnny’s hand and leads him towards the living room. In one corner sits a large glass tank adorned with all the typical reptile decorum. Johnny watches, curious, from over Ten’s shoulder as Ten slides the top of the tank open and carefully extracts a yellow and black-patterned snake. Cooing quietly at it, Ten lets the snake curl around his wrist as he turns to face Johnny. “Say hi to her, she’s the most beautiful girl ever.”

  
“Her face is like..weirdly cute.” Johnny holds one hand out, smiling faintly when Cinderblock stretches towards him to flick her tongue at his fingertips. Grinning, Ten allows Cinderblock to carry on slithering over his hand and weaving through his fingers.

  
“Right? I love her little nose. She’s not a big fan of being held by new people, so I’ll let you do that after she’s used to you, but you can touch her scales. She’s my fat slithery baby.” Ten’s eyes crinkle happily at the corners when Johnny runs his fingers over the smooth, warm scales along the snake’s back.

  
“My brother would be losing his mind right now. He always wanted a ball python but our mother would shriek at the very thought.” Johnny snorts quietly. “I promised I’d get him one someday.”

  
Gently setting Cinderblock back in her tank and shutting the lid securely, Ten nudges Johnny towards the couch, where they both sit. It’s silent, but not awkward or uncomfortable, and eventually Johnny settles down a bit to lean his head on Ten’s shoulder. Ten rests his head on top of Johnny’s, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. They stay like that for a long while.

  
At least an hour passes before Johnny speaks again.

  
“So I’ve been figuring out how to try and word this for this whole time, and I still have no idea, so I’m gonna do my best. Just let me know if you’re no longer following.”

  
“Gotcha,” Ten hums, reaching up to play with Johnny’s hair.

  
“Okay. That first night we met, I told you dating isn’t really something I do right now. And then we hooked up like, two weeks later, which technically isn’t contradicting that statement, but I feel like it also kind of...does, in a way.”

  
“I hear you.”

  
“And, like, I don’t regret hooking up with you, but it was definitely not a decision I made in the clearest state of mind. Because I _do_ like you, honestly. If you couldn’t tell, you’re the only person I spend time with on accord of my own free will other than Doyoung. I like you in a different way than Doie though. I’ve been there and done that and we both will never speak of it again. Unless I feel like bugging him. But anyways. Hooking up isn’t really the right way to try and start slow with someone, I think.”

  
“Still following,” Ten mumbles, smiling faintly when Johnny scoots a bit closer.

  
“I have no idea how, I’m not even making sense to myself. But whatever. Dating is still something questionable for me, but I’m not..ruling it out completely anymore. There’s some stuff that’s changed and other stuff that’s gonna change, so..” Johnny shrugs against Ten, who turns to press his lips to the top of Johnny’s head, murmur into his hair, “So?”

  
“I like you. I just..want to see where this goes. Naturally. I like you a lot and I’m sorry I require so much fucking patience it’s exhausting, but–“

  
Ten shushes Johnny, tilting the elder’s face towards him. Johnny looks young, scared, his honey eyes wide and sparkling and cheeks flushed pink.

  
“I’m not the most patient person, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m more than willing to be patient with you, ‘cause I like you too, you fucking dweeb. I’m a corny little believer in fate, so yes, let’s just see what happens.”

  
Johnny reddens even more and tucks his face into Ten’s neck. In spite of his size, he seems small, curled up against Ten’s side on the couch. “It doesn’t..bother you? I don’t...I’m not trying to lead you on, or be one of those guys who refuses to put labels on a relationship just so he’s free to do what he wants and pretend he doesn’t know he’s being a dick. That’s not what this is.”

  
“I know it’s not. And, frankly, labels don’t make much of a difference to me anyways. It’s more about the commitment, yeah? Boyfriend is just a word, but you know if someone is committed. I fully believe you’re not playing games or trying to use me, I see right through that bullshit with guys anyway.” Playing with Johnny’s hair, Ten smiles and murmurs, “Can I get a kiss? Or are we not there yet?”

  
Johnny hums and leans up. This one is different from the first time they kissed. There’s no rush, no teeth and tongue ushering away any hint of intimacy, just Johnny’s lips moving languidly against Ten’s. They stay there, lips locked in a sweet, lazy kiss, until Johnny’s phone buzzes in his pocket and makes both of them jump.

  
“Shit, sorry,” Johnny mumbles, fumbling to turn it off. “I forgot I set alarms to remember to eat.”

  
“Look at you, king of self care,” Ten praises, pinching Johnny’s cheek. “Well, in that case, let’s make something. I’m a little low on groceries right now but there’s enough to whip up some semblance of a meal.”

  
Johnny follows Ten into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. “Literally anything can be turned into a meal when you’re broke and struggling.”

  
“That’s the spirit. I’m gonna be significantly less broke soon, though, ‘cause I’ll have my tattooing license and be working in a shop charging people out the ass for my amazing fuckin’ work.” Ten grins. “And you aren’t going to stop me from buying your ass healthy food so you put on some motherfucking weight.”

  
“Oh, I’m not?” Johnny sounds amused.

  
“Nope. Also, I have the stuff to throw together some pasta, will you grab a pot from the cabinet over the stove?” Ten opens up his pantry, having to climb onto the counter to reach everything. He glares when he notices Johnny watching, clearly trying not to laugh, and raises his middle finger.

  
“Fuck off! It’s not my fault my roommate puts everything on the shelves that I can’t fuckin’ reach.” Ten grabs the ingredients he needs and hops down from the counter. Johnny glances over his shoulder at Ten, raising an eyebrow.

  
“Roommate? Oh, wait, yeah. I remember you mentioning them,” Johnny thinks aloud as he’s filling the pot he’d grabbed with water.

  
“Yeah, he should actually be home any time now.” Ten lets Johnny set the pot on the stove and turn it on to boil before making the taller face him. “Lemme see your arm.”

  
“It’s pretty gross,” Johnny warns even as he’s undoing the medical tape from the gauze wrapping his forearm. “Not as bad as it was a few days ago, but still. I have a checkup on it in a little more than a week.”

  
“Good.” Ten takes Johnny’s wrist, wincing when Johnny takes the bandaging away to reveal the healing burns. “Gosh. That is gross.”

  
“I tried to warn you,” Johnny hums. “I should let them get some time out of those bandages though.”

  
“Does it hurt?” Ten queries, noting the lock on the front door clicking in the back of his mind. Johnny shrugs, looking up as footsteps echo towards the kitchen.

  
“A little bit..” Johnny trails off. He stiffens when Taeyong pauses in the entryway to the kitchen, staring back and forth between Ten and Johnny incredulously.

  
“God, not you..” Taeyong mutters after a moment, dropping his keys on the counter.

  
“We’re not on the clock, dude, I’ll deck you,” Johnny retaliates calmly. Ten tries not to laugh, nudging Johnny. It doesn’t stop him from glaring Taeyong down.

  
“Now, now. Let’s all play nice. Taeyong, you really need to learn some empathy, and also just be nice to my fucking friends. Don’t make me set Cinderblock loose in your room again.” Ten opens up a box of spaghetti noodles, glancing to check if the water is boiling yet.

  
“Whoa, what the hell did you do there?” Taeyong’s eyes widen when they land on Johnny’s arm. Uncomfortable, Johnny looks away, scrubbing at the back of his neck with one hand.

  
“Uh, can I step outside and take a smoke? I won’t be long.” Johnny looks at Ten instead.

  
“Go out on the balcony,” Ten points towards the living room. “And be safe. I’ll probably join you in a few.”

  
“M’kay,” Johnny mumbles, brushing past Taeyong. Ten waits to hear the sliding door to the balcony open, then close again before he fixes the coldest glare he can muster on Taeyong.

  
“I’m not gonna tell you this twice, so make sure you’re listening carefully, Taeyong. It costs absolutely nothing to be a decent person, and some fucking decency is something Johnny could use right now. I don't care if you're an asshole to me. Whatever you have against him, fucking drop it already. From what I can tell, the dude’s done nothing to you besides be miserable and come into work despite struggling with his own shit. So–“

  
Taeyong takes a breath to speak, but Ten slams his hand onto the countertop loudly, making Taeyong jump. “Interrupt me and I’ll end you. Johnny may not be the nicest to you, but stop and take a look at your own behavior before considering why. You are both adults, and right now, the ball is in your court to grow a fucking pair and A) apologize for being an awful manager and person in general, and B) make the fuck up.”

  
“What makes you think he wouldn’t laugh in my face and tell me to get fucked?” Taeyong folds his arms, eyebrows raised. Dumping the box of pasta into the now-boiling water, Ten shrugs.

  
“I don’t know anything. He may do that, he may not, but it’s worth the little bit of time, effort, and humility to offer that olive branch so you both can stop all the animosity.”

  
Taeyong is silent for a moment, heaving a sigh. Grabbing his keys off of the counter, Taeyong runs his hands through his hair. “I’m gonna go change. I smell like fucking dish water.”

  
“Humility, Taeyong!” Ten calls after his retreating form. Turning the heat down on the stove so nothing boils over or catches fire, Ten goes to join Johnny on the balcony.

  
“I’m being good.” Johnny sounds bored, tired, and he doesn’t look at Ten as he drags on his cigarette. It’s almost finished, but he hands it to Ten anyways. “I only have one left, you wanna share?”

  
“Sure. I just bitched Taeyong out about being nice to you like I was his mom, so you know what that means.”

  
“Oh, am I getting bitched out too?” Johnny rolls his eyes. “Because frankly, I’m not in the fucking mood.”

  
“Whoa, snappy. And no, I was just going to say that if he apologizes, you don’t have to accept it, but I think it’ll make both of your lives easier to be civil to one another.” Ten flicks the finished cigarette butt away as Johnny’s taking out a new one and lighting it.

  
“Sure, whatever. Dude’s still an uptight asshole.” Johnny blows out a cloud of smoke, then drags on the cigarette some more before handing it off to Ten. “My arm fucking hurts.”

  
“Drop the attitude, I've done nothing to you. Also, I’m very sorry, I’ll give your booboos kisses and princess bandaids when we get back inside.” Ten flicks ash off the end. “D’you wanna spend the night? We still gotta have that pillow fight and gossip about boys.”

  
“Yeah, fine.”

 

 

Johnny picks at his food a lot, pushing it around on his plate more than he actually eats, but he still manages about half of his serving before gagging beside Ten and pushing his plate away.

  
“Sorry,” Johnny mumbles. “I try to eat sometimes and it just makes me feel like I’m gonna be sick. I don’t know why.”

  
“It’s okay. Um, I’ll tell you something I don’t really like sharing with most people.” Ten scoots a bit closer to Johnny on the couch, their thighs touching. “I was anorexic in high school. I’m not exactly big now, I know, but I was tiny then. I’m talking, like, five-four and ninety-something pounds. I counted calories like crazy and went to ballet every day, danced until I collapsed to burn off the little bit of whatever I’d eaten, if I’d eaten anything at all. And when I finally started recovering, eating was really fuckin’ hard. Not just the mental aspect, but, like, physically. When you don’t eat a lot, for a long time, you get used to it, y'know? And your body is so used to small portions, like half of an apple cut into tiny pieces or, like, depression meals like a bagel and a handful of crackers all day. When you have to start taking in regular-sized portions, your body’s just like, what the fuck?

  
“I’d feel physically sick really often, trying to eat anything. I’d do the exact same thing you did, start heaving and gagging in the middle of chewing my food because I just couldn’t stand the feeling of it in my mouth or going down my throat. I was too used to being empty by then.”

  
It’s quiet, and Ten takes a breath. “Maybe I could’ve made that anecdote less...all about me and my struggles, but what I’m saying is I get it. Shit’s hard. S’not your fault.”

  
Johnny doesn’t answer, just wraps his arm around Ten’s middle and holds him a little closer. Ten lays his head on Johnny’s shoulder.

 

 

As promised, before bed Ten forces Johnny to allow him to clean the burns on Johnny’s arm, put fresh ointment on and bandage everything back up. He presses a kiss to Johnny’s knuckles, sits back on his mattress. “There. Sorry there were no actual princess bandaids. If you wanna brush your teeth and stuff there’s extra toothbrushes under the bathroom sink.”

  
Johnny hums, giving Ten’s hand a squeeze and ambling into the hall, towards the bathroom. He’s back after a short wait, stripping down to his boxers and crawling into bed with Ten.

  
“God, your hands are cold,” Ten complains as Johnny settles down with an arm draped over his stomach, head on Ten’s chest. Johnny hums and pinches Ten’s side in retaliation.

  
“Goodnight, Johnny.” Ten runs his fingers through Johnny’s hair, reaching with his other hand to turn the light off.

  
“Night, Ten,” Johnny mumbles.

  
Ten isn’t sure what time it is when he’s awoken by Johnny jolting beside him, feels Johnny’s quick breaths and heartbeat thrumming in his chest where the elder is pressed against him. Johnny tries to be careful when he extracts himself from Ten’s arms to sit up, running both hands over his face. He flinches at first, feeling Ten rubbing his bare back, then turns to look over his shoulder at Ten.

  
“Did I wake you up? ‘M sorry.” Johnny’s voice is raw, and even in the dim moonlight streaming through Ten’s window the tear tracks glittering on his cheeks are visible.

  
“It’s okay,” Ten mumbles sleepily, giving Johnny’s arm a gentle tug until he lies back down, facing Ten. “Bad dream?”

  
“Yeah. Same one I always have.”

  
“D’you wanna talk about it?”

  
“Not really. They get pretty violent.” Johnny sniffles quietly, and Ten finds one of his hands, squeezes gently. Bringing Ten’s fingers up to his lips, Johnny mumbles, “Sorry for waking you up.”

  
Appreciating the warmth against his knuckles, Ten hums. “Don’t be. Do you need anything?”

  
“No, I’ll be okay,” Johnny whispers, “go back to sleep.”

  
“M’kay. Make sure you try and get some rest too, Johnny.” Ten leans in to kiss Johnny’s forehead. He falls asleep with his hand still holding Johnny’s, the elder’s lips pressed to his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuuuuuuuuuuueueueueuuueeeueuuuu like always pls leave feedback or kudos etc if ur enjoying this fic and hmu on twt @honeyboyyoungho !


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fellas is it gay to cuddle your best friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhghhghbhbbbhghbghgnghbgghghhuhhrhhhgghggbgb
> 
> can i get a hell fucken yeah babey for johnny being in chicago i hpoe he gets to hug his mf MOM
> 
> TW FOR THIS CHP /////: talk of a past eating disorder

The waiting room is actually pretty empty, only a few people scattered in the chairs and couches throughout. Johnny’s thankful for the quiet, but at the same time it makes him all the more aware of his own voice when he mumbles a hello to one of the receptionists, gives his name and date of birth.

“We aren’t too busy this morning, so your wait time should be forty-five minutes at most,” the receptionist informs Johnny as she’s handing him a small stack of paperwork to fill out. “Just give these to the counselor who comes to fetch you for the evaluation. Sit wherever you like.”

  
“Thanks,” Johnny mumbles, grabbing a pen and ambling towards an unoccupied couch. A familiar face peers up at him from a few chairs away, and Johnny widens his eyes, sighing. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  
Jungwoo waves, offers a smile and shuts the journal he’d been writing in. “Funny seeing you here.”

  
“Likewise,” mumbles Johnny, sitting down and starting to fill out his paperwork. “How are you?”

  
“Alright, thanks for asking. You?”

  
Making a noncommittal noise, Johnny shrugs. “I’m living, so.”

  
“That’s always something. I have a question.”

  
Glancing up, Johnny narrows his eyes in suspicion at Jungwoo. “What?”

  
“Are you and Doyoung, like, in love or something?” Jungwoo rests his chin in his palm, leaning forward a bit. Johnny’s so taken aback that all he can do is laugh at first, eyes widening.

  
“God, no. I thought you were gonna ask some way worse question,” Johnny chuckles, “No, we’re not. You aren’t the first person to ask that. Doyoung and I just realized a long time ago that masculinity is a prison and we can be close friends the way we are without it being weird or whatever. Friendships are better when you're a little gay for each other.”

  
“Wow, love that for you. Anyways, I’ll leave you be. My counselor’s probably coming to get me soon anyways. I hope this place works out for you, whatever you’re here for.” Jungwoo leans back in his chair and reopens the journal, resumes his scribbling. He pauses once more, taking a breath before saying, “One more thing. I’m gonna warn you, psych evals are really draining. Prepare to be exhausted and ready to sleep for the rest of the day once you’re done.”

  
Johnny suppresses a groan, thinking of his six-hour shift later in the day. Calling off is always a nightmare with Taeyong, but if Jungwoo is right, Johnny may just be willing to do it anyways.

 

 

Over two hours later, Johnny emerges from one of the offices followed by the psychiatrist he’d met with, a kind-faced man named Junmyeon.

  
“Why don’t we schedule for an appointment next week? I’ll get you in with a nurse practitioner as well, you can discuss potential meds that they and I can coordinate on. I’ve been in touch with Seulgi over at the hospital, and for now our main priority is your mental and physical health, once a plan for that is set in place we’ll worry about insurance. Until it kicks in, we should be able to backlog the payments so that your insurance covers them.” Junmyeon puts a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, squeezes gently. Johnny’s throat aches and he swallows down the urge to start crying, because he’s done plenty of that in the last couple of hours.

  
“Yeah, sounds good.” Johnny’s voice comes out hoarse, and he leans against the receptionist’s counter. “Thank you.”

  
“No problem. I have an opening Thursday afternoon, does that work for you?” Junmyeon flips through his schedule book. Johnny nods, listening to the receptionist begin to click away on the computer.

  
“Perfect. I’ll see you then, Johnny. Take care,” Junmyeon offers a warm smile before he heads back to his office, and Johnny leaves feeling a little bit lighter than he had when he walked in.

 

 

Jungwoo hadn’t been joking when he said the evaluations were draining, and by the time Johnny gets home, all he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep. First, though, Johnny takes his phone from his pocket and texts Sicheng.

 

**1:12 p.m.**

**johnny:** Hey I’m really sorry this is short notice, I hate to be that asshole but can you cover my 4-10 tonight?  
I still can go in if you’re busy I’m just dying today and not looking to faint on the clock again

 **sicheng:** fuck shit dude i hear you. you know i’d cover for you any other time and get the extra hours but i have dinner with my partner’s parents tonight im sorry!  
taeyong’s been weirdly chill lately maybe he’ll let you off early  
either way don’t overwork yourself honestly just call off if youre really not feeling hot. taeyong can kiss my ass

 

Johnny blinks a couple of times, slightly taken aback. Not that Sicheng has ever been rude, but Johnny is pretty sure that’s the nicest thing Sicheng’s ever said to him. He smiles a little, responds with a _‘no worries dude, have fun with the inlaws’_ before going to his room. Johnny barely remembers to set an alarm before he’s in bed, asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

  
Johnny wakes up to Woozi kneading at his arm and Jeonghan and Mingyu shouting in the other room. Sighing, Johnny checks his phone to find only three minutes left until his alarm goes off anyways, and sits up slowly. Woozi stares up at Johnny with big, imploring eyes, and Johnny scratches his head gently. “Your dads are dumb and annoying.”

  
Woozi responds with a quiet _Prrrb_ and jumps off of Johnny’s bed, trotting into the hall. Johnny rolls out of bed, stretches his arms up until his bad shoulder makes that definitely-abnormal popping sound and his spine clicks into place. Grumbling about being an old person already, Johnny ambles around his room, changes into his work clothes while making quiet conversation with himself. 

  
“But would that make sense? It’s not like–“ Johnny steps out into the hall, pausing awkwardly when Jeonghan and Mingyu stop their fighting to stare at him with surprise.

  
“Since when were you here?” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair.

  
“Earlier..? I was just. Sleeping. Definitely wasn't just talking to myself. Carry on.” Johnny shuffles towards the bathroom. Behind him, he hears Jeonghan hiss, “You always do this shit at the worst possible times..” and then the arguing starts back up. Johnny drowns it out by humming as he brushes his teeth.

  
Slipping his shoes on, Johnny walks past Mingyu and Jeonghan, grabbing his keys off of the table. “If you break anything,” he says over his shoulder as he’s opening the door, “just make sure it isn’t the guitar, I’ll murder someone.”

 

 

“God, we haven’t worked together in ages,” Sehun mumbles, stacking cups and putting them away. Johnny joins him, stalling the inevitable hell that is waiting tables. “You look like shit.”

  
“I appreciate you being so candid,” Johnny drawls, rolling his eyes. “I had no clue.”

  
“You’re welcome. How’ve you been?” Sehun finishes with the cups and leans against the counter, looking Johnny up and down. It makes Johnny feel vulnerable, and he crosses his arms, shrugging.

  
“Some stuff has gotten better but it’s mostly still shitty. I’m getting my shit in order to withdraw from college, they said if I finish out this semester with relatively okay grades and withdraw before the next one starts I can get some tuition money refunded.” Johnny rolls his head from side to side and groans when his neck pops. “I might have some other jobs lined up so I can quit this one.”

  
“And leave me here?” Sehun places a hand over his heart. “Nah, that’s good. I’m glad. Well, now that it’s my turn to talk about myself..”

  
Johnny snorts, tips his head back to laugh, but abruptly stops when Taeyong walks past, carrying a tray of plates. Taeyong looks at him, but it’s not his usual glare, just a passing glance.

  
“Actually, I should probably go do my job. So sorry I couldn’t stay to listen about your rich boyfriend and casting calls from modeling agencies,” Johnny teases Sehun, who makes a face in return.

  
The first two hours are okay. Sure, there’s the almost-but-not-quite sensation of a headache at Johnny’s temples, but for the most part, customers are tipping well, and only a few bitch at him for problems he has nothing to do with. The third hour brings a wave of dizziness strong enough that Johnny has to stop to avoid dropping the tray he carries, lean against an empty table until the spots clear from his vision and his feet feel steady beneath him. He ignores the stares from people nearby, just delivers the dishes to their table and hurries back to the kitchen.

  
“Take ten,” Taeyong tells Johnny over his shoulder as he passes with a tray of drinks in hand. Johnny stares in confusion, watches him retreat before shrugging and grabbing his cigarettes and lighter, walking outside for a quick break.

  
“I know he’s technically not allowed to do this, but he already knows we’re friends anyways, so I bullied Taeyong into telling me if you were working or not tonight so I could come bully you too.” Ten shoots Johnny a cheerful smile, leaning up against the wall beside him. Johnny’s silence is a response on its own.

  
“Are we in a mood or did you just not hear me?” Ten asks, taking the cigarette when Johnny offers it to him and linking their hands. Johnny shakes his head, using his free hand to rub at his temples.

  
“I did not hear any of what was said, but yes, we are also in a mood. Kind of. I’m dizzy.” Johnny leans his head back against the cool brick, closing his eyes. Ten’s hand squeezes his.

  
“Well, that’s not good. You been eating?”

  
“I had a sad person breakfast and no lunch. I was busy in the morning and then I got home and slept ‘til I had to come here.”

  
“What did you have for breakfast?” Ten hands Johnny the cigarette back, blowing out smoke.

  
“An apple ‘n coffee.”

  
“That is not breakfast. You gotta _eat_.” Ten brushes his thumb over the back of Johnny’s hand even as he says it, a reassurance that something is still better than nothing. “When are you off? I have groceries now so you should come over and let me make you food.”

  
“Ten.”

  
“What?”

  
“No, I mean–“ Johnny pauses to laugh, “I mean I’m off at ten, dime.”

  
“Oh,” Ten giggles, bringing Johnny’s hand to his lips. “Well, as I was saying, I have actual food now, and I make some killer coconut soup. And basil chicken. I can also make not-Thai recipes, but that’s boring and I only do it if I’m broke or entertaining people with the palates of toddlers.”

  
“I will eat whatever you make, trust me. Are you gonna hang around till I’m done?” Johnny puffs on his cigarette a few times, and then coughs. “Ugh, fuck. I really gotta quit.”

  
“Yeah, true,” Ten agrees even as he takes the cigarette when Johnny offers it to him. “To answer your question, I have to run some late errands, but I’ll probably be back around nine-thirty-ish to harass you and Taeyong until you’re off.”

  
“Repeat that? All I caught was _errands_ and _Taeyong until I’m off_.” Johnny watches Ten play with the chunky silver ring on his pointer finger.

  
“Oh, you sweet little thing, and your terrible hearing. I have to run some errands, but I’ll be back here around nine-thirty to bug you and Taeyong ‘til you’re off. Also, where’s this ring from? Haven’t seen you wear it before.” Ten raises Johnny’s hand to the light. The ring is shaped like a bull’s head, the metal dull and tarnished with age. Freeing his hand from Ten’s for a moment, Johnny takes the ring off of his pointer finger and gives it to Ten to examine. It’s heavier than Ten expects as he picks the ring up and runs his fingers over the engraved silver.

  
“It was a gift from Doyoung, I think for my nineteenth birthday? There was this big long corny letter he wrote me to go with it. It was pretty emotional stuff, but basically, the reason he got the bull was to remind me to keep fighting even if it pissed me off sometimes. A bull knows some stupid matador will keep waving that red cape in its face, but it also knows there’s a good chance it’s gonna skewer the asshole on its horns, so it keeps charging.” Johnny smiles fondly. He flicks his cigarette butt away, puts the ring back on when Ten returns it to him. “I stopped wearing it for a while because I didn’t think I deserved to if I felt more like a preemie deer that can’t walk than like any type of bull. I still don’t really think I deserve to wear it, but it’s a nice reminder someone cares.”

  
“A lot of people care. I’ll let you get back to work. Make sure you sit down and take a breather if you start getting dizzy or feeling bad at all again.” Ten stands on his tiptoes, brushing his lips against Johnny’s cheek in a barely-there kiss. “See you in a bit.”

  
Johnny pops a mint to hide the smoke on his breath, returns to the kitchen to start bringing out orders and checking on customers. He keeps track of every time he passes Taeyong and gets a nervous glance thrown in his direction. The mental tally that marks ten times is the point where Johnny stops him in the kitchen, crossing his arms and staring Taeyong down.

  
“Can you stop looking at me like that? I’m not going to collapse in the middle of bringing someone their appetizers and embarrass you.” Johnny furrows his brow. Taeyong’s expression goes from shocked, to offended, to apologetic all in the span of a few seconds.

  
“Embarrass me–that’s..not what I’m worried about? I understand what you have against me, but I’m trying to look out for you. I know I’m definitely not doing great at it and having me go from bitching at you to work harder to caring about your wellbeing, even on just a bare minimum level as your manager, is probably a pretty big mindfuck, but I’m trying to do better. I’m sorry.” Taeyong’s shoulders slump forward, and he shakes his head a little. “Pressure on me from my superiors is no excuse to single you out for working a little slower or anything else, and to assume you’re just being lazy or purposely difficult when I don’t know your personal life or the shit you’re dealing with. I'm _sorry_ for being an uptight asshole."

  
Johnny eyes Taeyong with suspicion, and Taeyong leans back against the counter, shrugging. “Fuck, dude, you don’t have to like me, but I swear all I’m doing is trying to be less of a dick so work is less miserable. For both of us. I’m waving my white flag here, I really am sorry.”

  
“Wild how it took you until now to realize this,” mutters Johnny, running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, whatever. Guess I gotta do the mature thing and accept now?”

  
Taeyong looks at the hand Johnny extends with surprise, then up at Johnny’s face. “Wait, really?”

  
“Hurry up and shake on it before I change my mind.”

  
Johnny has to admit, he does take great satisfaction in Taeyong’s wince when he squeezes his hand. He pretends not to see Taeyong rubbing his sore fingers after Johnny turns away.

 

 

Johnny’s sitting at an empty table, nursing his headache when Ten returns. The hand on Johnny’s shoulder makes him jump at first, but he doesn’t bother lifting his head from his arms.

  
“How are we doing?” Ten leans down so Johnny can hear him, playing with the ends of Johnny’s hair. “Also, you need to wash your hair.”

  
“We are doing terrible,” comes Johnny’s muffled response. “The light hurts. I’ll probably fall over if I try to get up right now.”

  
“I won’t let that happen. Come on, let’s go back to mine, you can go buckwild on some migraine pills and take a hot shower. Get up, big boy.” Ten tugs on Johnny’s arm. Johnny doesn’t budge, groaning lowly.

  
“Please? I’m tired too, we can get home and go right to bed if you just get. Up.” Ten shakes Johnny gently, and that’s enough to make Johnny lift his head, squinting at Ten.

  
“Do you ever worry about yourself?” Johnny asks as he stands up. He pales and sways a bit, leaning on the table until his eyes are no longer unfocused and he can stand straight. “Ugh, god. I’m leaving my car here and just riding with you.”

  
“That sounds like a good idea. And, to answer your question: yes, I do. I take mental health days ‘n talk to someone as needed, I’m not great at always practicing self-care but I try. Which reminds me; I’m going to take a couple days to have some space for myself after tonight. Nothing you did, and I’ll be there if things get bad or it’s an emergency, but I’ve been struggling with some me-related stuff and think I should probably address it.” Ten watches Johnny amble behind the counter to clock out, grab his things. Johnny quirks one corner of his mouth up.

  
“Good. I was starting to think you’d never take a break,” Johnny muffles a yawn behind his hand. He hooks his pinky with Ten’s as they walk out of the restaurant and to Ten’s car. “You know you can come to me with your shit too. It goes both ways, this whole thing. Maybe I should’ve said that, but I thought it was kind of a given.”

  
“I know,” Ten assures. “Don’t worry.”

  
Johnny dozes off on the short ride home, and he leans on Ten on the way to the front door. Ten tries to hide his shiver when Johnny tucks his face into Ten’s neck and sighs, breath warm against his skin.

  
“Head still hurt?” Ten asks once they’re inside, kicking his shoes off. He waits on Johnny to do the same before carrying on towards his room.

  
“Yeah. I’m gonna shower, too, if that’s cool.”

  
“Good, grease boy. There’s excedrin in the bathroom cabinet, take two. I know I said we could go straight to bed but you probably should eat something.” Ten leans against the wall beside his bedroom door, pulling Johnny in close with hands on his wrists. He brushes his thumb over the bandage on Johnny’s forearm. “How are these doing?”

“Better. I have my checkup in a couple days.” Johnny places his hands on the wall on either side of Ten’s waist, caging him in. This close, he makes Ten feel impossibly small, especially when Ten has to tilt his head to look up at Johnny.

  
“That’s good,” murmurs Ten, leaning up and meeting Johnny’s lips in a lazy kiss. Johnny’s arms encircle his waist, and Ten’s hook around the taller’s neck, one of his hands playing with the soft hair at the nape of Johnny’s neck. It’s brief, but something warm swells in Ten’s chest when Johnny pulls away and nuzzles sweetly at Ten’s cheek before stepping back.

  
“I’m gonna shower. Don’t go to the trouble of making any food, I’ll survive tonight.” Johnny’s hands linger on Ten’s waist before he’s turning, walking to the bathroom. Ten stays there, back against the wall, for just a second longer.

  
“Fuck, dude, you’re in deep,” he whispers to himself, hearing the hiss of the shower starting.

 

 

Ten wakes up to Johnny gone, a notification on his phone.

 

**delivered 7:33 a.m.**

**jyani:** I had to go do some school stuff and I didn’t wanna wake you up :(  
Taeyong took me to get my car from the restaurant it was surprisingly not as awkward as I expected  
I’ll leave you be now. Take care of yourself dime

 

Ten grins at his phone screen, lets out a wistful sigh and kicks his legs a little.

  
“Good morning,” Taeyong greets from where he’s curled up on the couch when Ten shuffles out of his room and towards the kitchen. “Are you and Johnny dating?”

  
“We’re getting there. So you guys buddy-buddy now or what?” Ten queries in return, opening up the freezer and taking out a mouse to thaw for Cinderblock. Then, he starts to make coffee.

  
“Not exactly. Just civil, I guess,” Taeyong answers, shutting his book and watching Ten curiously. “He was gonna walk back to work for his car today, I mostly expected him to say no when I offered to just drive him instead ‘cause I was opening anyways but he accepted, and it wasn’t insanely awkward or anything, so.”

  
“That’s what he said,” Ten laughs, stirring sugar into his coffee. “He’s nice, really. Just..going through some stuff. I’m sure you’re...nice, too, somewhere underneath your Cancer bullshit.”

  
“Is that why you asked for my sign?” sighs Taeyong, sipping from his own mug.

  
“Yeah, and so I could find a reasonable explanation for the other questionable parts of your personality.” Ten leans against the counter. Shrugging, Taeyong reopens his book. “Fair enough, I guess. Am I allowed to ask what you mean by you guys are working on it or is that the point where it’s no longer my business?”

  
“We’re just going slow. I think he’s scared that, like, if we make it an official thing with a label he’s gonna suddenly fuck it up somehow.” Ten walks over to the couch and sits down, curling his hands around his mug and appreciating the warmth. Taeyong shifts to give him more space.

  
“That’s reasonable enough, I think.”

  
“Yeah, s’why I don’t really care. Labels don’t matter much to me, I told him it’s more about the commitment anyways.” Ten watches Cinderblock slither out from one of her hides, peer at him through the glass of her tank and flick her tongue. “He didn’t think having a pet snake is weird, so he’s a good one.”

  
“I like Cinderblock, just from a distance.” Taeyong glances at the tank from over the top of his book, shrugging. Ten laughs and takes a sip of coffee.

  
“Well, I’ll leave you alone now,” Taeyong yawns, getting up and stretching. “I have to go do some stuff, but, um. Good talk? I think this is the first real conversation we’ve had.”

  
“Yeah, I think so. Have fun doing your stuff,” Ten waves as Taeyong heads back to his room.

  
Ten tries not to look at them, but on days like this, he always does. His therapist is right when she says he should delete the photos, and he always tells her that he did a long time ago, but it’s terribly easy to lie, and even easier to find those old pictures.

  
Logically, Ten knows it was unhealthy. Looking at pictures of his fifteen year-old self taken in the dance room mirrors, his feet together yet thighs still not touching, he remembers all too vividly the constant cold, the tingling in his fingers and toes from vitamin deficiencies. Hell, Ten’s still anemic, six years later—that’s something all those blogs he scrolled through endlessly didn’t mention, that you can get better and still never be quite the same.

  
Sometimes, even six years later, it’s scary how easy it seems to slip back into measuring portions down to the ounce, drinking so much water he’s too full for anything else, and dancing until his legs give out or he falls unconscious; whichever happens first. Sometimes, even six years later, Ten isn’t quite happy with the way he can’t count every rib, and sometimes, it’s still hard to finish a meal.

  
Not to say things haven’t gotten better. Because they have. Ten loves food. Going back to Thailand one summer and learning to make his favorite dishes with his mother and grandmother reignited something, made eating food more than just one of the mechanics necessary to living. It’s not all about counting the calories anymore; Ten much prefers going to his favorite noodle restaurant with Jaehyun and putting too much sriracha sauce in his pho every time, leaving him with a runny nose and burning tongue, to convincing himself he’s full off of half a cup of plain oatmeal and a smoothie that’s really just frozen fruit blended with water. Ten’s long since learned to enjoy flavor again, but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy.

  
It doesn’t mean Ten never misses how powerful it felt once he’d gone three whole days without eating. Even after throwing up bile as soon as he woke up, an empty stomach that growled viciously with each sip of icy cold water signified success to Ten, made him feel like he could go a week without food and be fine. Sure, Ten knows now that you get that feeling because your brain doesn’t function properly without nourishment, but it doesn’t mean he never misses it sometimes.

  
Ten probably needs to schedule an appointment with his therapist. He sets the reminder in his phone and then gets up, goes to get Cinderblock’s mouse for her.

 

**12:07 p.m.**

**ten:** _[video attached]_  
look at my daughter ëät

 **jyani:** I’d take a bullet for Cinderblock  
I’m sending that to my brother

 

A hot bath with candles and a glass of wine at noon doesn’t magically fix Ten’s problems, but it feels nice to soak for a while, take his time shaving his legs so he doesn’t miss the spots he always finds later after a hurried shower. Getting back into bed and sleeping away his day off won’t fix anything either, but Ten thinks he owes it to himself to take a break every once in a while.

 

 

Johnny’s sitting on the living room floor, messing around with his guitar and scribbling something in his songbook every so often when the phone call comes. Smiling a little at the name on the screen, Johnny answers, holding his phone between his good ear and his shoulder. “Hey, Duckie.”

  
“Youngho!” Donghyuck shouts, making Johnny wince a little. “Guess what?”

  
“What?” Johnny fiddles with one of the tuning pegs on his guitar.

  
“There’s a break coming up and I was thinking we could come up to visit you.”

  
“Who’s we?” Johnny queries, eyebrows raising. He glances up when Jeonghan comes through the front door, red-eyed and miserable looking. Johnny waves, and Jeonghan just groans quietly and collapses facedown onto the couch.

  
“Oh! Right. My boyfriends, Mark and Jaemin. That’s we.” Donghyuck sounds apprehensive on the other end, and Johnny chokes a little, incredulous.

  
“Boyfriends? Plural? Damn, Hyuck, nice. So you’re thinking of visiting? Where are you gonna stay? My apartment barely fits me and my roommate to begin with.” Johnny grins when Jeonghan lifts his head at the mention of more than one boyfriend, eyebrows raised. Johnny mouths _‘my brother’_ and that just sends Jeonghan’s brows further towards his hairline.

  
“Damn. Tell him to give me some tips,” Jeonghan mutters before planting his face back in the couch cushions.

  
“My roommate says hi, by the way,” Johnny adds. Donghyuck laughs, and then answers Johnny’s earlier question.

  
“Mark’s family is up in Vancouver, we can stay with them. It’s a short drive to Burnaby from there, so it’ll be easy to visit. There’s about a month until the long weekend anyway, so there’s time to figure out the details better.”

  
“Do Mom and Dad know you’re planning this?” Johnny gets up, sets his guitar back on its stand so he can pace the living room.

  
“Mom and Dad need to get over themselves. I’m nineteen and they can’t keep trying to stop me from seeing my brother.”

  
“That didn’t answer my question, Duckie.”

  
“Okay, no. But does it matter? How are you, Youngho? You sound tired.” Donghyuck changes the subject, tone laced with concern. Johnny sighs and runs his hand over his face.

  
“Because I am tired. I’ve been better, but don’t worry too much. I’m trying to make some changes. I’m probably dropping out of school.” Johnny hears a knock at the door. A glance through the peephole tells him it’s Mingyu, and Johnny nudges Jeonghan where the other is still lying prone on the couch. Jeonghan just shakes his head, so Johnny shrugs and makes sure the deadbolt is locked before hooking the door chain in place as well.

  
“Do whatever you gotta do, Youngho,” Donghyuck hums. “What about music? Have you played piano at all?”

  
“Just guitar. Are you still a lame theater kid?” Johnny teases, resuming his pacing.

  
“It’s what I’m going to school for, of course I am. So..you want me to visit? Us to visit, I mean? Like, it’s okay?” Donghyuck asks, and Johnny can just imagine him biting his fingernails, brows crinkled together.

  
“Yeah, Hyuck, that would be nice. Just beware of the shitstorm you’ll land yourself _and_ me in if Mom or Dad find out, yeah?”

  
“Sure, whatever. I can’t wait to see you!” Donghyuck giggles. “I gotta go to one of my classes now but I’m glad we got to talk, bub. I love you a lot.”

  
“I love you most, Duckie, I also love when you talk to me like I’m not the older one here,” Johnny’s voice drips sarcasm, but he’s still grinning.

  
“I know you do! I’ll keep you updated on everything, I love you Youngho-ah, bye!” Donghyuck coos before the line goes dead. Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Johnny stares at the floor for a minute and just allows the tears to well up in his eyes, still smiling. Jeonghan only looks up when he hears the first muffled sob, eyes wide.

  
“What? Did something happen?”

  
“No,” Johnny laughs wetly, wiping his eyes. “No, everything’s fine, I’m actually happy crying for once. My brother’s coming to visit, this is the first time we’ll see each other and talk face to face in like..a couple years, at least.”

  
Expression softening, Jeonghan holds his arms out. “Aw. Sweet, I’m glad.”

  
Sitting on the couch and letting Jeonghan hug him, Johnny winds an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders. “Yeah, me too. What’s up with you?”

  
“I don’t mean to bring your good mood down or anything, but I hate boys. Mingyu. I hate Mingyu. Doesn’t wanna define shit between us, then says he wants a break, but gets jealous over me living my fucking whore life and isn’t emotionally capable at all and doesn’t understand clear fucking communication. From now on I’m threatening every stupid himbo that comes within ten feet of me with a knife.” Jeonghan huffs, leaning against Johnny.

  
“Want me to beat Mingyu up for you?”

  
“Johnny, doll, that’s a very generous offer and I appreciate it but maybe you should wait until you have some actual muscle mass for that.”

  
Tipping his head back and laughing, Johnny gives Jeonghan a gentle shove. “Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you should say it.”

  
“Drink a fuckin' protein shake, bastard.” Jeonghan sniffles quietly and pulls back, offering Johnny a weak smile. “Thanks for letting me vent. I’m glad you’re seeing your brother soon. Will I get to meet him?”

  
“Only if you behave,” Johnny answers, aiming to kick Jeonghan in the ass and missing as the other gets up from the couch. Jeonghan grins over his shoulder. “No promises!”

  
Once Jeonghan’s disappeared back into his room, Johnny goes back to his guitar, reopens his songbook and tries to pick up where he left off, only to find he doesn’t like what he’d been working on at all. Sighing, Johnny flips to a clean page and tries again.

 

 

 

 

“Let’s see how we’re doing..” Seulgi hums quietly as she takes the bandages off of Johnny’s arm, inspects the burns. “Hm. Healing a little slower than I’d like to see, but I think that’s due to malnourishment and those deficiencies I’m suspecting. We’re going to draw your blood for tests today, but I’m a little worried you may faint..”

  
“Oh, word?” Johnny sighs, watching as Seulgi prods at his arm.

  
“There hasn’t been much of an improvement in your vitals from our last visit. I’d like to see your nutrition back in order, and your weight significantly higher, Johnny, so I think we’re going to set you up on a meal plan. For now, I’ll keep an eye on you while you get your blood drawn and you’ll get juice and a cookie once that’s done.” Seulgi smiles. “Any questions?”

  
“How much weight do I have to gain?” Johnny inquires, just out of curiosity.

  
After thinking for a moment, Seulgi makes a so-so hand gesture and answers, “Between seventy to seventy-three kilos is what I’d like to see for your size. Don’t worry too much about weight at first; refeeding can come as a sort of shock to the metabolism at first, and your weight will likely fluctuate some before any steady gain really begins. Your health and how you feel is more important, though, what I want to see is a smaller difference between your standing and resting heart rate, less dizziness, etcetera. Sound good?”

  
“Yeah. Thank you,” Johnny mumbles, hoping Seulgi can tell he’s being genuine.

  
Getting his blood drawn makes Johnny feel a little dizzy. He’s sitting in Seulgi’s office once again, sipping from a juice box like a child, when she returns with some papers in hand.

  
“We’ll get your lab results in a couple of days, so I’m going to schedule an appointment next week. Keep taking care of your arm, and in the meantime, I’d like you to try and follow any of these that you’d like to the best of your abilities.” Seulgi hands Johnny a couple of papers. At the top of them, bold letters read ‘Meal Plan A’ and ‘Meal Plan B’, and they organize meals into columns with the proper portions of things.

  
“It may not always be easy, but as long as you’re getting in three relatively balanced meals and maybe some snacks daily, you’re on the right track. I’m glad you got in to see Junmyeon, too. You’re working hard, Johnny.” Seulgi smiles at Johnny, who has to swallow down the lump in his throat and smile back.

  
“Thanks. It doesn’t really feel like I am, most of the time.” Johnny shrugs his shoulders.

  
“It may not, but trust me. You’re doing what you need to do to get better, and that’s hard to do on your own. Give yourself some credit.”

  
Johnny thinks about that all the way home, the phrase circling around in his mind over and over. Give yourself some credit. Maybe Seulgi was onto something.

 

 

The thing about trying to get better, something that Johnny knows very well, is that nothing about it is ever linear. He’s harshly reminded of this when it’s just too hard to get out of bed, takes what feels like a monumental amount of effort to even reach towards his nightstand and turn off his alarm clock. This empty feeling in his stomach, so sad and lonely he wants to cry but can’t even do that, is the worst part. Johnny isn’t sure how it’s possible to feel so sad and yet so completely _numb_ at the same time.

  
Johnny thinks of the meal plan hung on the fridge with one of Jeonghan’s dorky dinosaur magnets every time his stomach rumbles, or cramps with hunger, and he knows he needs to get up and eat something, anything, but every time Johnny thinks he can do it, that getting out of bed won’t be that difficult, he’s wrong. Just sitting up, Johnny heaves a long sigh, and then cries, because it’s too hard. It’s not a loud cry; Johnny merely stares at the wall and lets the tears run down his face in silence.

  
Johnny’s poking at a new, developing bruise on his forearm, the same one with the burns, when Doyoung comes into his room like a hurricane, all frustration and worry and fear showing in the wrinkle between his brows, the downward pull of his lips.

  
“I called you three times.” Doyoung softens as soon as Johnny peers up at him, eyes bloodshot and puffy. “You worried me.”

  
“Sorry.” Johnny’s voice cracks, and he scoots over to make room for Doyoung in his bed. “I think my phone died earlier. I haven’t checked.”

  
“That’s okay,” Doyoung whispers, kicking his shoes off and crawling underneath the covers. His chest is warm against Johnny’s back, even through both of their shirts, and Doyoung’s long fingers stroke Johnny’s hair soothingly. “Don’t apologize, I just got anxious.”

  
The rest of the day is hazy to Johnny. He drifts in and out of sleep for most of it. Doyoung gets Johnny to at least keep down some rice and water, wipes Johnny’s face with a cool washcloth and reminds him to breathe if Johnny’s crying too hard and feels as if his throat is closing up on him.

  
Johnny thinks that he definitely doesn’t deserve Doyoung. He thinks this as Doyoung is cuddling him once again, rubbing Johnny’s back and carding his fingers through Johnny’s hair.

  
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay and babysit me every time this happens,” Johnny mumbles, voice wavering. “I’ll be okay. Go live your life.”

  
“I had nothing planned but homework and a dick appointment today, and I’ve been doing homework while you sleep. Don’t worry about me,” Doyoung kisses Johnny’s temple. “I’d rather you not be alone right now.”

  
Johnny’s too exhausted to argue, so he just fumbles for Doyoung’s hand and squeezes it tightly. He falls back into a fitful sleep.

  
The next time Johnny wakes up, it’s to Ten leaning in his bedroom doorway, talking with Doyoung in hushed tones. Johnny doesn’t bother moving, just watches from where he’s buried under his blankets. It takes Ten a moment to notice Johnny’s eyes on him, but when he does, he walks over to brush Johnny’s hair off his face and press a lingering kiss to his forehead.

  
“Hey, honey,” Ten whispers, brushing his thumb over Johnny’s cheekbone. “Tough day, huh?”

  
Johnny nods and blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes. They’re starting to sting from all the crying, and he’s stuffed up, his mouth dry and head aching. Ten hums and runs his fingers through Johnny’s hair. “I know this may be the last thing you want to do right now, but let’s get up and get outside. Even just for a few minutes. Feel the sun on your face, yeah? Have a cigarette if you want.”

  
Johnny just stares back at Ten, who reaches under the covers for his hand. “I know it’s hard. I had one of those days not too long ago. But trust me, you’ll feel a little tiny itty bitty fraction better if you just get some fresh air. I was talking to Jungwoo the other day, he said you guys ran into each other at his therapy office. I’m glad you went to see someone, I know it’s scary and psych evaluations suck but you did it.”

  
Ten gives Johnny’s arm a gentle tug. When Johnny still doesn’t move, Doyoung comes over and strokes his hair, coaxing Johnny with quiet murmurs promising that he can get right back into bed afterwards if he wants, just to get up and stretch his legs for a minute.

  
Glaring weakly, Johnny eventually kicks his covers off and rolls out of bed, whining when his body aches in protest. His bad shoulder cracks noisily when he stretches, and Johnny winces, massaging the sore area. Ten beams up at him, however, patting Johnny’s cheek fondly. “Thank you, I’m proud of you.”

  
They sit on the sidewalk outside the apartment building, and although Johnny won’t admit it out loud, the sun (it’s setting already, something he notes miserably) does feel nice against his skin. Ten lets Johnny lean on him as Johnny takes a cigarette from his pack and lights it.

  
“You want your own?” Johnny mumbles around the twig in his mouth, glancing at Ten. Shaking his head, Ten waits on Johnny to take another drag before plucking it from between his lips.

  
“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t. Saves you a cigarette.”

  
Blowing out smoke, Johnny hums and rests his head on Ten’s shoulder. He closes his eyes and sighs when a breeze blows, makes him shiver, and Ten puts an arm around his shoulders. “Saw you got a meal plan. They diagnose you with anything?”

  
“Nah. I’m just built like Gumby 'n _apparently_ that's a 'problem'," Johnny answers blandly, eyes warming when Ten smiles. "You okay talking about this stuff?”

  
“Dweeb. And yeah, for the most part. It's mostly just talking about my own issues that bugs me. Thank you for asking.” Ten hands Johnny the cigarette back. “So have you been following it?”

  
“Trying to. I’m still working on managing three meals a day. My doc wants me to gain some weight, but it’s kind of a lower priority than just..getting healthy, I guess,” Johnny answers. Ten hums.

  
“Yeah, I understand. It’s hard, so don’t get too upset with yourself if you just can’t eat everything sometimes. As long as you cover your food groups ‘n shit.” Ten gives Johnny’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  
“How have you been?” Johnny changes the subject. “Past couple days been alright?”

  
“For the most part. I made an appointment with my therapist for some stuff I still need to talk out, so I have that to look forward to. Having some time to myself helped, but also, I realized I quite like your company.” Ten smiles when Johnny shoots him a doubtful look. “Seriously.”

  
“You have the wrong priorities. How’s tattooing stuff going?” Johnny stubs out the finished cigarette and rests against Ten, ignoring the exhaustion creeping over him once more.

  
“Good. I have my final assessment in two weeks, and then I’m officially licensed to just..fuck people up,” jokes Ten. He notices Johnny’s head threatening to drop off his shoulder, the elder’s lids drooping, so Ten shakes Johnny gently. “Alright, let’s get back inside. I asked Doyoung to fix some food for you, just something small, eat a little bit and you can go back to bed. Sound good?”

  
“Will you stay?” Johnny asks, voice small. Ten finds his hand and squeezes it as they stand up, start back inside. That’s answer enough for Johnny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhhh as always m gojnna be thirsty and beg that u lea ve comments n feedback i need to feed my family please


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe things aren't all that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating in so long hhhgfdhfhd
> 
> uhhhh trigger warnings for this chapter-very brief mentions of past suicide attempts  
> there's also smut but it's Soft And Loving smut

Johnny is sluggish as he zips his guitar into its case, an unlit cigarette held in between his teeth. The past few days have him feeling exhausted, slow, even if all Johnny did was sleep and cry. Johnny feels out of it, the only way he can describe it aloud is as not feeling like a person with a physical body, but that doesn’t make any sense.

  
“Mail for you.” Jeonghan comes in from work, shedding his jacket and handing Johnny an envelope. Just glancing at the company name on the front, Johnny gives a sigh.

  
“This better be my insurance card or I’ll have a breakdown.” Cigarette bobbing in his mouth, Johnny tears open the envelope with reckless abandon, groaning triumphantly when he unfolds the paper inside to find, sure enough, his card. Johnny shoves it into his wallet, feeling a bit better than he had a minute previously.

  
“Have a show tonight?” Jeonghan queries, watching Johnny pack up his pedals and cords for everything, check the pocket in his guitar case for extra strings and picks.

  
“Yeah, just something short at that bar a few streets away. I forgot I was doing it until they called to make sure I was still coming.” Johnny stands up, slipping his arms into the straps of his guitar case and picking up his amp, the bag with his pedals and cords inside. Jeonghan smiles.

  
“Cool. Maybe I’ll come by with a friend to catch some of it.”

  
“If you do, don’t bring high expectations,” Johnny yawns, sticking his cigarette behind one ear. “I’m out of here. Peace.”

  
Jeonghan waves as Johnny walks out.

 

 

Ten beams at Johnny from the bar. Another guy working alongside him eyes Johnny curiously, nudges Ten and asks something Johnny can’t hear from here. Johnny pays them no mind and carries on towards the stage in the back of the bar. He focuses on setting up, ignores the headache the red-tinted stage lights are giving him and turns on his amp to adjust everything to the settings he likes.

  
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight, it’ll be nice to hear you play.” Ten steps up onto the stage and sits beside Johnny where the elder is cross-legged, picking at the strings on his guitar and adjusting the tuning pegs, messing with the dials on his amp. Johnny glances up, fixing purple-ringed eyes on Ten and smiling weakly.

  
“I told Jeonghan,” Johnny covers his mouth to yawn, then continues, “don’t have high expectations.”

  
“I’ll like whatever you play. Tired?”

  
“Very.” Johnny pauses from his fidgeting and rests his head on Ten’s shoulder. “Literally all I wanna do is sleep.”

  
“I hear you, babe. Wanna come over when you’re done? I’m off in just a couple hours.” Ten glances at his phone for the time. Johnny hums, picking his head back up from Ten’s shoulder and fumbling for the cord to connect his guitar and amp.

  
“Sure. I sleep better with you,” Johnny admits in a soft voice, and then goes red, as if he hadn’t intended to say that aloud. Ten grins and claps his hands together quietly.

  
Johnny’s set lasts an hour or so, consists mostly of mellow instrumentals and a few covers. Ten pays particular attention to one, quicker song Johnny plays, finds himself leaning in to listen.

  
_“Aw, shit, I wish I had a job to quit._

_I wish I had a boss that I could tell to fuck off._

_Give me the satisfaction of a dramatic exit._

_And I just–a long car ride and a short goodbye in a parking lot.”_

  
When he finishes, Johnny meets Ten’s eyes and manages a wry smile, hair falling over his face. His voice broke over the higher parts in the song, but it sounded harsh in a nice way. Johnny seems surprised at the quiet applause from the bar’s attendants when he finishes his set and smiles faintly, eyebrows raising.

  
Someone approaches the stage as Johnny’s kneeling, coiling his cords back up. His good ear is facing the back of the stage, so Johnny doesn’t hear it the first couple of times the man says hello, and then he jumps at the tap on his shoulder.

  
“Fuckin’ ay, dude,” Johnny puts a hand over his heart and sighs. “Sorry, you caught me off guard. I can’t hear well on this side.”

  
“Don’t be sorry, my apologies for startling you,” the man offers him a smile, leaning against the stage. “My name is Kibum Kim.“

  
“Oh, I know you. Run that alternative arts school or whatever, right?” Johnny asks, stuffing his cords and pedals into their bag. Kibum nods, arms folded.

  
“You’re talented. Self-taught?” Kibum tilts his head. Johnny glances towards Ten before laughing slightly.

  
“Music background. Took piano lessons as a kid, taught myself guitar.” Johnny carefully sets his guitar into its case. Nodding, Kibum watches, silent for a moment.

  
“We have an after-school band camp-type program starting up next week. How are you with kids? Young adults?”

  
Seeming to sense where this is going, Johnny’s eyebrows rise towards his hairline. “I’m real close with my little brother, always have been. Kids like me for some reason, I used to be less...”

  
Johnny waves his hands vaguely and Kibum chuckles. “Intimidating?”

  
“That’s a word, yeah. Why’re you asking?”

  
“Well, we’re looking for musicians willing to do group or one-on-one instructions. Is that something you’d be interested in?” Kibum unfolds his arms and reaches into his pocket, checks his phone.

  
“Paid?”

  
“Yeah, of course. You’d get a bi-weekly pay of about eighteen hundred dollars, more if we ask you to work weekends or longer hours for special occasions.” Pocketing his phone, Kibum tilts his head at Johnny. He watches Johnny think for a moment, clearly doing the math. Johnny’s mouth falls open in surprise, and he narrows his eyes suspiciously at Kibum.

  
“That’s a lot of money for a simple job like that.”

  
“Simple?” Kibum laughs a little, “You’re young. What kind of job are you working right now?” Kibum smiles as if he’d expected Johnny’s hesitation.

  
“Waiting tables downtown.”

  
“Is it a safe assumption to say that relying on tips and shitty servers’ checks, the money you get from these gigs, isn’t really cutting it?” At Johnny’s silence, Kibum continues, “I was your age not all that long ago, believe it or not. I know how it is, and since I can afford to, I aim for all employees at my school to be paid a real livable wage. You’d be surprised by how much happier everyone is when people actually enjoy their jobs and get a reasonable salary for the work they do.”

  
“What’s the catch?” Johnny crosses his arms. Kibum grins.

  
“There is none, kid, I’m offering you a job, one you’re clearly meant for if you consider it easy. You’re talented, music is clearly something you have an aptitude for. I’ll give you my card so you have my number, you can come by the school one afternoon to see how the program works and if you think it’s up your alley. I’d like for you to work with us. Obviously, you have to go through an interview and background check, but personally, I think you're meant for the job. I think everyone involved would benefit from it.” Kibum hands Johnny a business card. Johnny is still staring at the printed numbers, dumbstruck, when Kibum leaves him be. Ten approaches only seconds after Kibum walks away, stepping up onto the stage.

  
“What was that about?” Ten inquires, helping Johnny gather up his things to bring to his truck.

  
“I, um. I think I may have a new job lined up. Holy shit.” Johnny relays what Kibum had told him to Ten, whose eyes brighten and grin widens with every word.

  
“That’s amazing, Johnny,” Ten gasps, bouncing in place as Johnny loads his things into his car. “Oh, it would be wonderful! A job you don’t hate, without an awful boss, and even more, doing what you really have a passion for. And the paycheck, holy shit. You’re gonna take it, right?”

  
“Probably. I’m gonna check out the program and see what’s up first. He mentioned a background check, though, and I have a criminal record...we'll see. I’m kind of glad this happened, ‘cause I was planning to just start whoring.” Johnny lights a cigarette as he and Ten walk back towards the building.

  
“I hope you’re joking. I have to run back inside and help Jaehyun, but I’ll save you a spot at the bar.” Ten’s about to head inside when Johnny catches his wrist, pulls Ten back for a lazy kiss. His arm winds around Ten’s shoulders, pulls the shorter close, and Ten can’t help but melt into Johnny’s warmth.

  
“I’ll let you go now,” Johnny breathes a few more long moments later, reluctantly withdrawing his arm from around Ten. Nodding dreamily, Ten’s gaze lingers on Johnny even as he goes inside.

  
“So you’re Ten’s new fling?” Jaehyun seems unimpressed as he looks Johnny over, drying a glass with an old rag. Ten elbows Jaehyun hard enough to make the younger wheeze and rub his ribs, pouting. “Gosh, okay.”

  
“Who are you?” Johnny examines his nails, not even bothering to look at Jaehyun.

  
“Jaehyun Jung,” Jaehyun sets down the things in his hands and extends one to Johnny. Ten has to resist from rolling his eyes when they shake, and Jaehyun squeezes Johnny’s hand, only for Johnny to fix him with an even stare and grip Jaehyun’s tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

  
“The sooner you stop trying to intimidate me the better.” Johnny folds his hands together and rests them on the countertop in an imitation of being pleasant, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when Jaehyun tries to subtly rub his sore hand. “So what do you do?”

  
“Other than this?” Jaehyun gestures vaguely around the bar. “I’m working with the city paper, I’m interning at their offices and shadowing a reporter for experience.”

  
Humming, Johnny nods his head. “You into journalism?”

  
“Journalism, writing in general. What about you?”

  
“Well, currently I’m going nowhere fast waiting tables at that shitty overpriced mediterranean-fusion restaurant on East. But I might have a new job teaching dorky high schoolers how to shred on guitar soon, so that’s cool.” Johnny looks at Ten even though he’s talking to Jaehyun. Ten’s gone to serve someone else at the bar, a smile on his face as he makes quiet conversation. Johnny frowns, recognizing the long black hair.

  
“Asshole!” Johnny calls quietly, and Jeonghan glances over, grins.

  
“I got stood up. Nice pickings, though,” Jeonghan points his thumb towards Ten, who giggles and waves him off. They carry on their conversation, and Johnny looks back at Jaehyun, whose eyebrows are raised.

  
“My roommate. Anyways.”

  
“So what’s the deal with you and Ten? He says you guys aren’t dating, but you both sure act like you are.” Jaehyun nods at another customer who’s been sitting at the bar since Johnny got here, pouring a shot of vodka and sliding it down the bar to them. Watching, Johnny shrugs.

  
“I think the real question here is why it’s any of your business.”

  
“Because Ten and I are friends, and I’m also nosy.” Jaehyun crosses his arms, cocks a hip out.

  
“You’re childish. We’re not dating,” Johnny rolls his eyes. “I guess, not yet. We’ll see.”

  
Jaehyun makes a spluttering noise. “Thanks for the clarification. That makes things so much clearer.”

  
“I know, right?” Johnny smiles, and Ten returns just as Jaehyun’s mouth is twisting into an annoyed scowl.

  
“Whatever you two are doing, stop it. I’m off in twenty, Johnny, play nice until then.” Ten pinches Johnny’s cheek, which makes the elder grumble under his breath and swat Ten’s hand away.

  
“I dunno what you’re talking about, I’m the sweetest cat ever,” Johnny retorts dryly. Ten just rolls his eyes and carries on doing whatever he had been before.

  
“If you’re so concerned about what Ten’s doing with me, ask him yourself. I’m not down to be interviewed by you.” Johnny twitches an eyebrow at Jaehyun. “You comprehend?”

  
Jaehyun curls his lip and walks away to do his job.

 

 

“So Jaehyun doesn’t like you.” Ten snorts as he and Johnny walk out hand in hand. Twirling his keyring around one finger, Johnny hums.

  
“Huh. That’s a shame, he seemed like such a great guy–“

  
“Don’t be mean, Jaehyun’s bristly sometimes but he’s sweet. Kind of like someone else we know, hm?” Ten nudges Johnny, who taps his chin thoughtfully.

  
“I don’t think Doyoung would appreciate that comparison.” Johnny grins at the look Ten shoots him. “Okay, okay, fine, I accept and embrace that I’m an annoying asshole but Jaehyun grated my nerves. I’m also just in a mood, not that that’s an excuse. I’m sorry.”

  
“You’re tired, and Jaehyun _can_ be annoying, it’s understandable. Following me home?” Ten nods towards Johnny’s car. Johnny hums, pulls Ten in for a one-armed hug before they part for their cars.

  
“Have you eaten?” Ten asks once they’re inside his place and Johnny is attached to his back, chin hooked over Ten’s shoulder.

  
“I ate dinner before I came here, Jeonghan made this Korean pork stew stuff and it honestly slapped. Can we sleep?”

  
“First lemme shower, I’m gross. Wanna join?”

  
“Is that a genuine invitation?”

  
“Yeah. You don’t have to accept if you don’t wanna.” Ten has to suppress a giggle when Johnny noses at his neck, hair tickling Ten’s skin.

  
“No, I’m accepting,” Johnny mumbles against his skin. Smiling, Ten takes Johnny’s hand, leading him towards the bathroom.

  
Ten can’t help but stare when Johnny pulls his shirt over his head, follow the lines of the jagged scar on his left arm. At Johnny’s shoulder, it narrows to a more precise surgical line that nearly wraps around the juncture of his arm. Ten reaches out to trace the raised scar, a shade darker than the rest of Johnny’s skin. Johnny flinches a little, then relaxes, glancing over to watch Ten’s fingers skim along his shoulder.

  
“I have a robot arm,” Johnny deadpans as Ten’s taking his shirt off, half-smiling. “Up by my shoulder, ‘s’all pins and titanium replacements. The shit aches with the weather and stuff too. And it makes,” Johnny rolls his shoulder back and there’s a loud, crackling pop that makes Ten cringe, “that noise.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Ten frowns. Snorting, Johnny works on his belt and the button of his pants.

  
“Take it back, slut. It was my own stupid fault,” Johnny shakes his head, dimple threatening to appear as he steps out of his pants.

  
“Is that a joke I just heard? From _you_ , Johnny Seo? Underneath the goth lesbian bangs, do I see..a sense of humor?” Ten widens his eyes, feigning shock. Johnny can’t stop himself from laughing this time, eyes turning into sweet little crescent moons.

  
“What, you don’t like them?” Johnny tilts his head at Ten, looks at the shorter through his bangs.

  
“No, you’re actually the only person other than lesbians who pulls them off,” Ten teases, slipping off his joggers and boxers in one go. He checks on the temperature of the water before stepping under the shower’s spray, and a moment later Ten feels Johnny behind him, large hands settling on his waist.

  
“Look at me,” Johnny murmurs in Ten’s ear. He’s so close when Ten turns around, one of his hands cradling the shorter’s face and his nose brushing Ten’s. Johnny presses their foreheads together, pulls Ten closer with his other hand on the small of Ten’s back. “Have I told you you’re beautiful?”

  
“Shut up.” Ten’s eyes flutter shut, but Johnny hums, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone.

  
“No, look at me,” Johnny insists softly, smile evident in his voice. When Ten opens his eyes, Johnny’s lips are curled up in a sweet grin. “You are. Look like a painting.”

  
Johnny presses a kiss to the corner of Ten’s mouth, then directly on his lips. “Your nose is so cute, all curved up at the end, and your eyes..hmm,” Johnny smiles, nipping playfully at the tip of Ten’s nose.

  
“You’re corny,” Ten feels his face heating up, and he hides his face in Johnny’s chest. “Tell me more.”

  
Chuckling, Johnny plays with Ten’s wet hair. “You’re just...a born model. Makes me wanna take pictures. You make everything look graceful ‘n beautiful, you’re like art that belongs in the Met."

  
Johnny’s heart thuds a little faster in his chest. Ten smiles when he hears it, lifts his head to peer up at Johnny. There’s an expression he doesn’t recognize, at least not at first. Not on Johnny’s face. Johnny’s cheeks are pink, both from the warmth of the shower and from his and Ten’s current position, and his eyes are warm, sweet, rich golden honey igniting something strange in Ten’s chest.

  
“You’re my dime,” Johnny murmurs, kissing Ten’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead. “My sweet dime, so fuckin’ intelligent and powerful and has a tight ass.”

  
Johnny grins and pinches Ten’s ass, pulls Ten closer when he tries to get free. Ten swats at Johnny’s chest, giggling, “Not like you’d know if my ass is tight or not.”

  
“Oh, do I smell a challenge?” Johnny wonders aloud, letting Ten go so that they both can actually start cleaning themselves before the water gets cold. Ten turns to grab the shampoo, grins over his shoulder at Johnny.

  
“Perhaps. Not tonight, though. My feet hurt and I wanna sleep.”

  
“No rush, I’m absolutely content with that too.” Johnny beams back at Ten, pushing wet hair off of his forehead.

 

 

It’s almost too easy, sliding into bed and fitting his body against Johnny’s so perfectly. It feels so natural, and the idea that he could get used to this, have it all the time, is one Ten likes more than he’ll admit. This is something Ten likes more than he’ll admit. Dancing his fingertips over Johnny’s warm, bare chest, pressing his lips to the scar on Johnny’s shoulder.

  
“Did I tell you my brother’s visiting?” Johnny lets Ten pillow his head on his arm, fingers absentmindedly stroking Ten’s shoulder. “I want you to meet him, even though I’m already pretty sure he’ll annoy you to death.”

  
“Doesn’t matter,” Ten smiles, lifting his head to look Johnny in the eye, “makes me feel special, that you wanna introduce me.”

  
“You are special,” Johnny mumbles, laying his head down on the pillow, “I’m shleepy. C’mere,” he pulls Ten in to kiss him on the forehead, lips lingering there for a long moment. “You’re really special to me. Goodnight, Ten.”

  
“Goodnight,” whispers Ten, reaching up to brush Johnny’s hair away from his closed eyes. It’s a little funny, how soon Johnny’s breath evens out, hand going slack against Ten’s shoulder. Ten thinks about what Johnny said earlier. _I sleep better with you._

  
“You fucker, I think I love you,” Ten breathes out before he lays his head down to rest just like Johnny.

 

 

“It’s Saturday. I have nothing to do other than my appointment. I don’t know how long it’s been since my last real day off.”

  
Chuckling sleepily, Ten sits up on his elbow and looks down at Johnny. “I’m not busy with work ‘til later tonight, stay and be lazy with me all day. I’ll go with you to your appointment thing.”

  
“I’m down. Breakfast and then you wanna fuck?” Johnny yawns, covering his mouth with one hand. Snorting at Johnny’s brashness, Ten places his hand on the elder’s chest.

  
“Why not just skip breakfast?”

  
“Because my stomach is gonna start eating itself if I don’t go absolutely deranged on some banana toast as soon as possible.” As if on cue, Johnny’s stomach growls, and they both laugh. Patting his chest gently, Ten sits up and rolls out of bed.

  
“Fair, fair. Also, banana toast? Old people food.” Ten digs through the pile of clothes in his desk chair for a hoodie, which he promptly pulls over his head upon finding the cleanest one.

  
“I’m a man with simple tastes, and I also am just old,” Johnny responds. Ten hears the mattress creak as Johnny gets out of bed, hears Johnny’s quiet moan of satisfaction as he stretches.

  
“Barely. I’ll make you as many banana toasts as you want, loser.” Ten stifles a yawn behind his sleeve and follows Johnny out of his room to the kitchen, giggling at the elder’s response of, “With peanut butter?”

  
Taeyong seems unfazed by Johnny walking into his kitchen wearing just boxers, but then again, Taeyong is impossible to read. He’s leaning against the counter, coffee in one hand and phone in the other, glancing up to watch Ten following after Johnny.

  
“Morning,” Ten greets, “is there coffee left?”

  
Looking up from his phone, Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I made enough for everyone.”

  
“Aw, thanks. You’re almost kinda cute now,” Johnny teases Taeyong, opening the cabinet right next to him to grab a pair of mugs. Taeyong eyes Johnny warily in return, reddening in the face and ears and taking a long sip of coffee. Grinning, Johnny carries on fixing his and Ten’s coffees while the younger drops some slices of bread into the toaster.

  
“Don’t antagonize him.” Ten laughs, grabbing creamer from the fridge. Johnny merely shrugs, grabbing the coffee pot. They have their breakfast right there at the counter, Johnny wrapping an arm around Ten’s waist until the younger’s back is against his chest. He refuses to let go, grinning and leaning his cheek on top of Ten’s head.

  
“I’m not your personal headrest,” complains Ten, reaching back to swat blindly at Johnny behind him. It only results in Johnny tightening his hold, lifting his head to take another bite of toast. A slice of banana falls off in the process, lands on the kitchen floor.

  
Johnny lets out a long sigh. “Look what you made me do,” he whines, letting Ten go to pick the dropped food up with a napkin and throw it away. “That was a perfectly good banana.”

  
“Do you know you’re actually the most dramatic person ever? Also, I had a question.”

  
“That was a question.” Johnny sips his coffee, raises his eyebrows at Ten.

  
Ignoring him, Ten carries on, “About this one song you played last night.”

  
He hums the melody, and Johnny’s eyes brighten in recognition. “Oh, yeah. More About Alcoholism by Ramshackle Glory. It was my emo anthem a few years ago when I still thought there was something poetic about wanting to die,” he snorts. “Now it’s just a fun song with depressing lyrics.”

  
“Good to know. I like listening to you play.” Ten brushes Johnny’s hair out of his eyes, peering up at him and grinning.

 

  
“You wanna be on top this time?” Ten murmurs, lips traveling down to Johnny’s jaw. They’ve been lying in bed, undressed and making out for a while. Johnny slides one hand up Ten’s back, the other grabbing his hip and pulling him closer. His skin is warm against Ten’s and Johnny smells like he always does, clean and woodsy, a little smokey. Ten flattens his tongue over the hickey he just left on Johnny’s throat, properly straddling Johnny’s hips and sitting up.

  
“You look nice like this,” Johnny compliments, resting one arm behind his head as he runs his free hand up Ten’s thigh. His cheeks are flushed, lips red from all the kissing, and Johnny’s eyes are lidded and sultry when he peers up into Ten’s. Ten feels Johnny’s fingers curl around his dick, warm and callused, and lets out a shaky little sigh.

  
“Like what? Naked?” Ten breathes, smiling. “Should I be certain you don’t just want me for my body?” He can’t restrain his soft whine when Johnny rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, hips twitching into the elder’s hand. Johnny seems set on taking his time, eyes on Ten’s face as he strokes him to full hardness. The dry friction edges on painful, but Ten likes the slight burn, placing one hand over Johnny’s and bracing the other on his stomach. He can feel Johnny getting harder too, his girth pressing against Ten’s thigh, and the thought has Ten shuddering.

  
“Wait,” Ten manages, voice coming out strangled. Johnny stops at once, expression worried, but Ten leans down to kiss him.

  
“Not gonna be very fun if I embarrass myself and cum before you even fuck me,” mumbles Ten as Johnny bites at his lower lip. Johnny flips them over and settles between Ten’s spread thighs, leaves wet kisses all down his neck and to his chest. He attaches his lips to one of Ten’s nipples and Ten arches his back, grabs Johnny’s hair with a gasp. The vibrations of Johnny laughing tickle Ten’s skin, but he barely has long enough to be annoyed before Johnny is grazing his teeth carefully over the bud of his nipple, holding Ten closer when his back arches off of the bed once more.

  
“Sensitive?” Johnny drags his lips over to leave Ten’s other nipple abused just like the first. His entire body feeling like a live wire, Ten whines, rolling his hips up and smirking when his dick brushes Johnny’s, making the other pause above him.

  
“You’re fuckin’ unreal,” Johnny murmurs, leaning up to kiss Ten again. He licks into Ten’s mouth, and they stay there for a minute, lips locked. Johnny finally pulls away, presses his forehead to Ten’s. A thin string of saliva still connects their lips. “Do you have condoms and stuff?”

  
Ten nods, pointing vaguely in the direction of his night stand before beginning to cover Johnny’s neck in more marks. Johnny, thankfully, gets it and leans over to open the drawer, fumbles around for a moment before extracting a bottle of lube and a condom.

  
“Do I get to mark you up too, then?” Johnny inquires, voice soft. He noses at Ten’s cheek, dips his head lower to bite gently at the soft skin just beneath Ten’s jaw. In response, Ten tilts his head, allowing Johnny easier access. He hears the cap of the lube being opened, but doesn’t pay much attention, preoccupied by Johnny’s mouth working hotly against his throat, biting and occasionally pausing to suck, lick over the bruises and blow cool air against them, making Ten shiver. Johnny kisses between the dip of Ten’s collarbones. “Gonna prep you now, okay?”

  
“I’m one hundred percent cool with that,” Ten answers lazily. Johnny hums and grabs a pillow with his dry hand, sitting up.

  
“Here, lift your hips up–perfect, babe,” Johnny praises softly as Ten shifts so Johnny can put the pillow under his hips, allowing for a better angle. Ten closes his eyes, hopes Johnny doesn’t notice his blush returning.

  
Johnny’s fingers stroke over Ten’s rim gently, lube warmed by his skin. Ten sighs as the first finger slides in, doing his best to relax. Johnny’s free hand sliding over his stomach to settle on Ten’s waist, thumb stroking the soft flesh there gently, helps. It’s relatively quiet save for Ten’s soft gasps, the occasional wet smack of a kiss exchanged between the two, Johnny’s murmurs of _This okay?_ and _You still good?_

Johnny’s mouthing along Ten’s collarbone when he crooks the two fingers he has inside Ten a certain way, and pleasure jolts through the younger. It turns the already-pleasant stretch into something different entirely. A choked moan escapes Ten, and he grips the hand Johnny has on his waist.

  
“Th-there, that’s good,” Ten sighs out, melting back into the mattress. Johnny keeps massaging that spot with the pads of his fingers, fits a third in alongside them. Ten winces for a moment, but the burn is quick to subside when Johnny rubs over his prostate again.

  
“Shit, fuck, fucker, get your dick in me,” Ten complains, and Johnny bursts into giggles, sitting back on his heels.

  
“How very romantic of you,” Johnny manages through his laughter, and Ten can’t help but grin too, biting his lower lip.

  
“Oh, we’re doing romantic? _Please_ get your big dick in me.” Ten bats his eyelashes. Johnny’s smile fades just a little, eyes darkening, and he hums, pulls his fingers out of Ten. Ten sits up on his elbows to watch Johnny open the foil packet, roll the condom down over his length.

  
“Your dick..is fucking beautiful,” mumbles Ten, thinking aloud. Johnny snorts, but his cheeks are red. It _is_ , though. A bit longer than average, and thick, reddened tip leaking precum inside the condom. Ten makes a mental note to make sure Johnny gets his dick sucked often after this. Ten looks up to meet Johnny’s eyes, shooting him an innocent smile. “Do I have to say it a third time?”

  
“Actually, yeah, I liked the ego boost when you called it big–“ Johnny starts to tease, but Ten knees him in the ribs without much force, glaring. Johnny chuckles, strokes Ten’s thigh soothingly. He spreads more lube onto his dick, and then lines the head up with Ten’s rim, looking up into Ten’s eyes. Ten nods, and Johnny pushes in, going slowly.

  
It burns a bit more than three of Johnny’s fingers had, and it must show on Ten’s face, because Johnny leans down to kiss him, murmuring, “You okay?”

  
“Excellent,” Ten replies, inhaling shakily when Johnny inches in further, “j-just keep going slow.”

  
When Johnny is fully seated, Ten has to take a minute to adjust to how full he feels, the way Johnny’s dick hits every spot inside Ten that makes his thighs tremble, the way its girth still burns a little, although not in a bad way. Johnny’s chest is rising and falling more quickly than before, flexing his tight grip on Ten’s hips and swearing lowly to himself.

  
“You’re so tight,” Johnny groans, tipping his head back slightly. He looks so beautiful, dark brows furrowed with pleasure and swollen red lips parted, slicked with saliva from all the kissing. Johnny’s skin glows in the sunlight streaming through Ten’s window, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. The tip of Johnny’s nose has pinkened to match his flushed cheeks, and it’s so catlike, so cute, that Ten bites back a grin.

  
Ten’s heart thumps hard in his chest as he reaches up to brush his fingers along the side of Johnny’s neck, then along his jaw, making Johnny look at him again. Ten brushes Johnny’s hair back from his face, simply admiring his features for a moment. Johnny leans in to kiss Ten, letting him take control, whining softly when Ten licks into his mouth.

  
“You’re so beautiful,” Ten pulls away to murmur, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. Johnny leans their foreheads together, humming softly.

  
“Nah, I think you’re the beautiful one.”

  
“You are too,” Ten insists quietly, kissing Johnny again and mumbling against his lips, “You’re fucking _stupid_ gorgeous and I love you.”

  
Johnny’s hands go slack on Ten’s hips, and for a second Ten thinks he’s fucked up months of whatever this is developing between them, has sent them beyond repair. He’s close to apologizing, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

  
“Fuck, Ten, really?” Johnny sighs, tucking his face into the younger’s neck. “I hope you’re serious because I love you too. Love you so much. You’re mine, my dime.”

  
Ten’s heart skips a couple of beats and he feels like the air’s been punched from his lungs. He feels like he’s in a dream.

  
“Say it again,” Ten whispers, tilting Johnny’s face towards him so they can kiss. Shifting until he’s holding himself up with one arm on the pillow beside Ten’s head, Johnny uses his free hand to take the one Ten has cradling his face.

  
“I love you I love you I love you I love you.” Johnny peppers Ten’s face with kisses.

  
“I’m yours?” Ten asks, gasping and squeezing Johnny’s hand when Johnny slowly slides out, thrusts back in.

  
“As long as you’ll have me too, love.” Johnny keeps his pace slow, allowing Ten to adjust to everything bit by bit.

  
“Yes, yes,” Ten whimpers, kissing Johnny again clumsily. “Yours,” he mumbles into Johnny’s mouth, “‘n you’re mine, all mine.”

  
Johnny can only moan in response, bring Ten closer to him as he speeds up a bit. Every feathery moan Ten lets out has heat coiling tight in Johnny’s gut, his thrusts becoming a bit harder as well. Ten seems content, moans growing in volume. Johnny doesn’t bother trying to keep Ten quiet, couldn’t even if he wanted to, because Ten sounds so sweet, it’s dizzying.

  
Johnny reaches down to stroke Ten’s cock, neglected between them. It’s enough to make Ten arch his back off of the bed, moaning loudly enough for the neighbors to hear.

  
“Oh f– _aah_ , holy shit, Johnny, more,” Ten scrambles for something to hold onto, ends up dragging his nails down Johnny’s back when the elder does as he’s told, fucking Ten harder. Johnny gives a quiet noise of discontent, but he’s paying more attention to the way Ten’s clenching around him, the burn in his thighs and the heat in his groin when Ten clenches around him.

  
“I-I think Taeyong’s still here,” Ten’s eyes widen with the realization. Johnny laughs aloud and drives his hips deep, sending anything other than the shock of pleasure shooting up his spine out of Ten’s mind. The cry that leaves his mouth earns a smirk from Johnny, who slows his pace, fucking Ten deep and hitting that same spot every time.

  
“Holy fuck I love you,” Ten chokes out, laughing breathlessly and hooking his arm around Johnny’s neck to pull him in for a clumsy kiss. Johnny can only moan at first, bite at Ten’s lower lip. Ten lets his head fall back onto the pillow when Johnny assaults his neck again. His mouth is hot, teeth nipping at the bruises already there before he laves his tongue over the stinging skin.

  
“You’re unreal, Ten,” Johnny groans, “fuck, I’m gonna cum soon, are you–“

  
Ten clenches hard around him, cries out, trembling in Johnny’s arms as his dick spits up ropes of cum that gets all over their stomachs and Johnny’s hand. Johnny’s thrusts slow, but only marginally, the elder still chasing his climax. Ten can’t even make a noise, hips twitching and his wide eyes trained on Johnny’s face. Johnny lets out a moan, long and throaty, and stills inside Ten, brows furrowed together and lower lip caught in his teeth. He gives a couple short, stuttering thrusts, soft pitchy whines that make Ten’s stomach flutter following each one.

  
“Oh, fuck.” Ten winces a little as Johnny’s pulling out. They’re both sweating, breathless and shaking slightly. “Fuck,” Ten says again, voice wavering slightly. Johnny leans in to kiss his cheeks, his temple, right as the tears well up.

  
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Johnny murmurs, “that was a lot.”

  
“I’m fine, like, physically, I just..” Ten gestures vaguely, sniffles. Johnny strokes his cheekbone gently, nodding.

  
“I know, it’s okay.” Johnny’s voice is just above a whisper now, low and soothing. “I’m here, love. Let me go get a washcloth to clean up a little, okay? Then I’ll hold you.”

  
It takes Ten a second to nod. Johnny’s gone and back in a flash, already wearing his boxers when he comes to gently swipe a cool washcloth over Ten’s stomach, his thighs and between his legs. His touch is so careful, methodic, and by the time Johnny’s done Ten’s almost sleepy, rolling onto his side and patting the mattress. Johnny tosses the rag into Ten’s hamper and joins Ten in bed, fitting himself close behind the younger.

  
“You okay?” Johnny pulls the blanket over them and then wraps his arm around Ten to hold him even closer.

  
“Yeah, I just..yeah. I love you. Thank you.” Ten turns to smile at Johnny, who returns it and gives him a chaste kiss.

  
“I love you too. Thank you for being patient with me.” Johnny gives Ten a gentle squeeze. Ten isn’t quite sure exactly when he dozes off, but it doesn’t take long with Johnny’s heartbeat steady against his back and breath warm on his neck.

 

 

Ten wakes up when the mattress shifts with Johnny’s weight, the elder getting out of bed.

  
“Where you going?” Ten slurs, rubbing his eyes.

  
“Just to pee and smoke a cigarette,” Johnny hums, pulling on sweatpants he’d left at Ten’s some previous time. Whining his protest, Ten flails one arm in Johnny’s direction

  
“Alright, ‘m just gonna pee, then. Be right back.”

  
Ten is almost asleep again when Johnny crawls back into bed with him. He can’t even be mad about it, just turns to lie against Johnny’s chest. Ten squints at the bruises coloring Johnny’s neck and collarbones, vivid purples and blues dotting his tawny skin, which Ten notes isn’t as washed out as it used to be.

  
“What time is it?” Ten murmurs, pressing a single sweet kiss to Johnny’s pec.

  
“A little past noon. When should you start getting ready for work?”

  
“Like, nine thirty.”

  
“Oh, we have all day, then. Rest a little more if you want,” Johnny rubs Ten’s back gently. “Feeling okay?”

  
Humming, Ten nods his head. He finds Johnny’s hand, slipping his fingers between the elder’s. “I’m great. If my neck looks even half as bad as yours Jaehyun’s not gonna let me hear the end of it for my entire shift.”

  
The sheepish half-smile on Johnny’s face tells Ten that it is most definitely as bad, if not worse. Groaning, Ten lets go of Johnny’s hand to pinch his side. “Fucker! You’re evil, you’re worse than the Devil.”

  
“I won’t debate that. However, you’re mean.”

  
“Astute observation.” Ten traces his fingers over the lines of Johnny’s ribs, sighing. “Bony.”

  
“Astute observation.” Johnny rests one arm above his head. Giggling, Ten slides his hand down to rest on Johnny’s flat stomach, fingers rubbing his soft skin absentmindedly. He looks up at Johnny.

  
“You have a double chin from this angle.”

  
“Smash or pass, though?”

  
“Hard pass.”

  
“Oh, fuck you.” Johnny flips them over, burying his face in Ten’s neck to litter more hickeys across his skin.

 

 

Seulgi is smiling when she enters the room where Johnny waits, sitting on the table swinging his legs.

  
“It’s good to see you.” Seulgi sets her clipboard down on the desk. “I’m glad to see that there are some improvements in your vitals. Your overall body temperature was a little lower than average before, that’s gone back to normal. Your blood pressure is still a little too low, but better than before, weight’s the same. How have you been? Your arm?”

  
Johnny lets Seulgi roll his sleeve up and inspect the burns, mostly scabbed over or reduced to scars by now. “Better. Some bad days, but good ones too.”

  
“Well, I’d hope so.” Seulgi eyes his neck pointedly, and Johnny remembers the bruises littered there. Heat flooding his face, Johnny laughs and scrubs the back of his neck with his other hand.

  
“Yeah..I have my..third or fourth, I think, appointment with Junmyeon soon, too, so there’s that.”

  
“Perfect, I’m glad to hear that. Following your meal plan? I’m sending you to our nutritionist after this to talk to her more in depth about what you need to be eating.” Seulgi takes her stethoscope, gestures for Johnny to sit up straight. Johnny obliges to let her listen to his heart, answering between deep breaths.

  
“Doing my best, it’s hard sometimes. I actually had to ask you about something else I need to do while we’re here..” Johnny swings his legs.

 

 

“All good?” Johnny looks up from his phone as Ten reemerges into the waiting room, carrying a couple of papers.

  
“Actually, they said I’m pregnant and it’s yours. Guess the condom broke.” Ten takes Johnny’s hand when he stands up and they walk out of the hospital together.

  
“Oh, man. I wanted to be a father, but I was thinking maybe in my later twenties..”

  
“Aw, you want kids? That’s cute. Also, they’ll call with the results in a couple business days.” Ten rolls the papers in his hand up into a tube and gently bops Johnny on the nose with it. “Do you have cigarettes? I never smoked this much until I met you, you fucking addict.”

  
“I’m like the nicotine fairy. Poof, your lungs are covered in tar now.” Johnny extracts a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, taking two out and offering Ten one. The younger waves his hand.

  
“We can share, I won’t finish one on my own.”

  
Johnny only hums, sticking one cigarette back into the pack and the other between his teeth. “So you just wanna go back to yours and chill? Or maybe, like, do something? We have the whole day.”

  
“Wait..did you just suggest we not stay in the house like hermits all day? I’m shocked and amazed.” Ten squeezes Johnny’s hand, grinning. He uses his free one to cup around Johnny’s mouth as the elder lights his cigarette, and Johnny’s eyes crinkle gratefully at Ten.

  
“Ha, ha, yeah, laugh it up,” Johnny grumbles, though he’s smiling. “Seriously, though.”

  
“You wanna get lunch?” Ten leans against Johnny, taking the cigarette when Johnny offers it to him. Digging in his pockets for his car keys, Johnny hums.

  
“Sure. You pick?”

  
“There’s this noodle place across from the university library. It’s good, like authentic, and super cheap.”

  
“Sounds good to me, I just need directions.” Johnny opens the passenger door for Ten when they reach his truck, taking the cigarette back from the younger and finishing it in one long drag before flicking the butt away.

  
“No problem. Also, how old is this truck? The windows have fucking hand cranks.” Ten climbs into his seat and grins at the way Johnny crinkles his nose.

  
“Very old. My first car was better, but I totaled it, so,” Johnny gestures vaguely, “I don’t mind though. She has character. Her name is Carla.”

  
Ten snorts. “Do you know that your humor and attractiveness are on an exponential scale? The dumber you and your jokes are, the hotter you get. It’s gross and I love it and you.”

  
“You know what’s gross? The fact you said that out loud. I’d kiss you but we both have cigarette breath and honestly that’s also gross.” Johnny half-smiles. “I love you too.”

 

 

The restaurant is warm inside, the smell of different spices and dishes cooking actually making Johnny’s mouth water. One of the women behind the counter waves to Ten, a beaming smile on her face. Ten returns it, eyes bright and cheeks already slightly flushed from the warm restaurant.

  
“Two of the usual, please!” Ten calls over the din coming from the kitchen and the other customers talking. Johnny raises an eyebrow, but Ten takes his hand and pats it reassuringly. “Don’t worry, it’s really good. You had pho?”

  
“Yeah, ‘s good.”

  
“You’ll like what we usually get, then. They make big portions here, don’t feel like you have to eat all of it. I usually barely make it past half a bowl.” Ten guides Johnny to a booth to sit down. Johnny nods his head, humming and reaching across the table for Ten’s hand. He hasn’t said much since they were in the car, but Ten doesn’t push for the reasons why, just traces the lines of Johnny’s palm with his forefinger.

  
Eventually his fingers travel further up Johnny’s wrist, stopping at the borders of the raised vertical scar on the inside of his forearm. Ten looks up at Johnny, questioning, and gets a nod, so he allows himself to run his fingertips over the scar. It’s a darker golden-brown shade than the unmarred skin on Johnny’s arm, the scar crooked and thick. Ten can see the marks where stitches were put in.

  
Eyes on Ten’s hands, Johnny mumbles, “Bleeding out sucks and I didn’t even die from it. What a waste.”

  
Johnny’s expression turns sheepish at the look Ten shoots him, and he shrugs. “Wouldn’t you be disappointed too?”

  
“Can I ask a question that might be kind of intense?”

  
“Shoot.”

  
Slipping his hand into Johnny’s, slotting their fingers together and squeezing gently, Ten tilts his head. “You know, when you hear stories from people who survived their attempts, so many times they say something about how they regretted it, or realized that they, like, actually did want to live as soon as they did it? Did you ever have that, like, come-to-Jesus?”

  
Johnny laughs dryly. “Nah. Every time I was just fully ready to bounce the fuck out of this mortal coil.”

  
Ten’s expression is hard to read for a moment, and he looks at Johnny’s scar again. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

  
“It’s really scary, honestly,” Johnny admits, letting out a long sigh. “It’s terrifying, things being so bad you’re finally just too tired to care about everything you’ll miss out on and everybody you’ll leave behind and all that shit. It always just felt like I was finally gonna go to sleep and actually get a good rest for once.”

  
Ten’s heart drops a little. Johnny isn’t looking at him, eyes firmly trained on the tabletop, but he keeps talking. “It was always just like, what’s the use? When I was doing really bad, it was sort of like just watching your friends desperately pursuing dead ends for your missing persons alert that everyone else stopped paying attention to a long time ago, and you can’t tell them stop it because you’ve been decomposing in a ditch for months. Like, give it up guys, that dude is gone.”

  
Ten tilts his head to the side, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. “Well, first of all, your skinny ass would make terrible worm food. Take a multivitamin before ending up in that ditch. Second of all? Shut the fuck up and find your damn self.”

  
Johnny looks up at that, slowly beginning to grin. “You just reminded me of this time I was in the hospital and being emo and Donghyuck got so fed up with it that he yelled at me to stop being goth and get the fuck over my tragic backstory and start the redemption arc already. He felt really bad and started crying about it like, immediately, but it was super funny and also something I needed to hear. I do have the habit of waxing shitty poetic when I’m super sad.”

  
Ten’s response is cut short as a server carries over their dishes, setting a bowl of steaming soup in front of each of them. Johnny’s eyes widen with interest and he reluctantly lets go of Ten’s hand to put his napkin in his lap. He and Ten both thank the woman serving them before she’s gone, and Ten picks up a pair of chopsticks.

  
“Please tell me you know how to use chopsticks,” Ten watches Johnny pick his own up. Laughing, Johnny nods his head.

  
“You’re gonna be disappointed. It was natural to me as a kid, and then around like, fourth and fifth grade my friends started making fun of me for bringing weird foreign food to school and eating with chopsticks so I just...stopped. I literally refused to use them, even at home, and I started getting school lunches instead. My parents didn’t do much about it, I guess they thought if it made things easier for me to fit in then so be it. Pretty much my whole school career consisted of me pretending to be okay with the more-than-slightly-racist jokes from my friends and acting like I hated my culture.” Johnny laughs dryly, stirring his soup around and blowing gently at the steam rising off the broth.

  
“But something changed,” Ten says, raising an eyebrow. Nodding, Johnny looks up at him.

  
“Yeah. Donghyuck got older, and he didn’t get why I was embarrassed to speak Korean to him when my friends were over, or why I was such a pain about silverware at mealtimes, and I guess I kinda realized where my priorities should’ve really been. I think he was maybe eleven or twelve, so I was about fifteen, probably, and he was the one insisting on making me start using chopsticks at family meals and holding conversations in Korean so I’d stay fluent. He never distanced himself from all of it the way I tried to, Duckie’s always been prouder of himself, and far more inclined to stand up to racist dickbags than I was when I was younger.” Johnny smiles and takes a bite of his noodles, cheeks filling up cutely. Ten does the same, stretching his leg out to hook his ankle around Johnny’s under the table.

  
“Donghyuck sounds like a really cool kid,” Ten says honestly. “It seems like you two are lucky to have each other.”

  
“Definitely. I was kind of a dick to him just on principle of him being my little brother until I was like, sixteen. But I got my shit together so that he’d have someone that’ll always have his back, no matter what kind of shit he gets into.” Johnny sighs, quiet for a long moment.

  
“What kind of shit does he get into?” Ten asks. There’s a beat of silence, and he doesn’t question it, just takes another bite of his noodles. Another few long seconds pass without Johnny saying anything, and Ten frowns, nudging Johnny’s foot with his own to get the elder’s attention. Johnny’s shoulder twitches a couple of times, eyes growing hazy and lids fluttering. They come back into focus just as quickly as it all had happened, and Johnny gives his head a little shake, blinking.

  
“Huh? I didn’t hear you, sorry,” Johnny raises his eyebrows at Ten’s expression. “What’s up?”

  
“Are you okay?” Ten asks, a force of habit. Johnny looks back at him for a second before he seems to connect the dots, expression falling.

  
“Shit, I went totally absent there, didn’t I? I’m sorry.” Johnny rubs his hands over his face.

  
“It’s not your fault,” Ten asserts right away. “I didn’t mean to overreact–“

  
“You’re fine, dime. I forgot that you haven’t really seen that before. It’s no big deal. So, what did you ask before I started astral projecting?” Johnny manages a smile and leans back in his seat. Ten takes a sip of water, hums.

  
“What kind of shit Donghyuck gets into.”

  
“Oh, God.” Johnny snorts. “I think the one that best sums up his entire personality was when he wore a dress to his senior prom, got kicked out for it, whooped some homophobe’s ass in the venue parking lot for calling him slurs—still wearing the dress, by the way, this all happened in the dress—and ended up calling me at two in the morning to bail him out of jail. And then he vandalized the school two days later as a _fuck you_ for kicking him out over a dress, and got arrested again. And I had to bail him out again.”

  
Ten is speechless for a full half-minute, mouth ajar. Johnny snickers, clapping his hands together. “Exactly. Donghyuck’s worse than me.”

  
“Now I see why you’d want to have his back..” mutters Ten, eating more of his noodles. Johnny nods, stirring his soup absentmindedly.

  
“He’s always had my back too. Even when I was an unredeemable fuck.” Johnny’s eyes slide past Ten to something behind him. “Oh. We have company.”

  
“Ten?” Jaehyun walks up and puts a hand on Ten’s shoulder, half-smiling.

  
“Sorry, Jaehyun, I’m breaking things off. It isn’t me, it’s you. And also I found someone hotter.” Ten doesn’t even look up, just shoving more noodles into his mouth. Jaehyun snorts.

  
“You were my side piece anyways. Now be polite and meet my boyfriend.” Jaehyun crosses his arms.

  
“Oh, hey, Johnny!” Sicheng waves from beside Jaehyun, his smile bright. Johnny grins and waves back. Comically, Ten and Jaehyun mirror each other as they look back and forth between Johnny and Sicheng a few times. Scoffing at Jaehyun’s expression, Sicheng rocks back and forth on his heels. “What? We work together.”

  
“Huh. Small world,” Ten mumbles.

  
“I figured it was only appropriate you guys meet, it’s been a while since..” Jaehyun shrugs, trailing off. His ears redden slightly.

  
“I like Sicheng already, he’s way too hot for you.” Ten smirks up at Jaehyun. “Sicheng, I don’t know you, but I will very soon, we’re having a sleepover in the near future. Now fuck off, Jae, I’m romancing my boo thing here.”

  
Johnny chuckles, watching Jaehyun’s expression go from affronted to curious in a matter of seconds. Jaehyun looks at Johnny, then back at Ten, gasping. “Oh, are you guys official now?”

  
Ten and Johnny share a look, and after a few noncommittal noises and shrugs from both of them Ten faces Jaehyun again. “Yeah, as of, like, this morning, I guess. Now leave me alone, I’ll see you at work and we can give each other all the explicit details later.”

  
Johnny’s quiet, staring into his bowl with a faraway expression on his face when Ten turns back to him. He only looks up when Ten nudges Johnny’s foot with his own, blinking a few times.

  
“Sorry. I keep spacing out, I’m crashing.” Johnny rubs his hands over his face, heaves a long sigh and meets Ten’s eyes. He looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes just as bad as they’ve always been and the corners of his mouth pulled downwards.

  
“We can leave, baby.” Ten reaches across the table to take one of Johnny’s hands. “Let’s go pay ‘n then we can bounce up out of this bitch.”

  
Johnny looks apologetically at his still mostly-full bowl as they stand up and walk towards the counter. He doesn’t let Ten pay for both of them, splits the bill in spite of Ten’s protest and smiles when Ten glares at him. Johnny is silent when they walk to the car, taking his keys from his pocket and staring at them for a second before holding them out to Ten.

  
“Please? I’m sorry.”

  
“Stop apologizing.” Ten takes the keys. He stops them when they reach the tailgate of Johnny’s truck, pulling Johnny down for a kiss. “It’s okay. I get it.”

  
Winding his arms around Ten’s waist tightly, Johnny kisses Ten’s cheek before he tucks his face into Ten’s neck and just holds him for a minute. Ten plays with Johnny’s hair, stretched up onto his tiptoes to accommodate the elder even with how much Johnny’s leaning down.

  
“Why are you so fucking tall?” Ten whispers, and that makes Johnny laugh, pulling back to look at him.

  
“I dunno, why are you short?”

  
“I’m leaving you here. Walk home.” Ten shakes his head even as he walks around to open the passenger door for Johnny, half-smiling. Johnny doesn’t answer, at least not with words—he just smiles at Ten, kisses him on the cheek before climbing into the truck.

 

 

They’ve been lying in Ten’s bed just being lazy together for a couple of hours now, napping on and off all while tangled together beneath the sheets. Currently, Johnny is passed out with his head on Ten’s chest, and Ten’s reading something on his phone, his free hand tracing random patterns onto Johnny’s back.

  
Johnny’s phone starts to ring where he’d left it on Ten’s nightstand. Johnny doesn’t wake up at first, and Ten is about to give him a little shake when the elder groans softly, reaches over to fumble for his phone. Sitting up, Johnny answers the call and yawns.

  
“What do you want, brat?”

  
Ten can hear a bright voice on the other end. _“Hi, Youngho, it’s nice to talk to you too. I have a date for when we’re coming up!”_

  
Johnny switches to Korean then, voice still a little slow with sleep, but Ten finds himself enjoying the way it sounds, even if he doesn’t understand what Johnny’s saying. He catches a little bit of English tossed in every so often, and it makes Ten smile, sitting up to lean against Johnny and wrap his arms around his middle. Johnny pulls him closer, rubs Ten’s back absentmindedly.

  
“So you’re coming for sure?” Johnny speaks in English again, voice still raw from sleep. “I’ll make sure to take the time off. You can meet my boyfriend, too.”

  
Ten hears shrieking on the other end, and Johnny holds his phone away, laughing through his nose. “Of course,” he mumbles, bringing it back to his ear. “Anyways, Duckie, get to class. I love you and I can’t wait to see you. Pest.”

  
Donghyuck says something else, and then Johnny ends the call and lies back down with Ten. “Holy shit. He’s coming next weekend.”

  
“Aw, babe!” Ten kisses Johnny’s cheek. “I can’t wait for you to see each other.”

  
“Me neither,” Johnny breathes out, grinning. “I’m like..really happy. It’s weird. I mean, you make me happy, obviously, but..”

  
“He’s your brother. This is the first time you’re seeing each other in ages.” Ten reaches up to squish Johnny’s cheeks, giggling at the way his lips pucker up.

  
“Doyoung showed me some old pictures. Your cheeks used to be so squishy,” Ten coos, “I can’t wait to see them like that again.”

  
“Lucky you, we’re getting there.”

  
“Slowly but surely.” Ten grins and leans up to press a kiss to Johnny’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment n leave kudos if u liked this story because i need validation to breathe! 
> 
> hmu on twt @Iesbianjohnny (the L is a capital i)


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trouble in paradise much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning;; mentions of blood and past suicide attempts/self harm
> 
> uhhhh idrk what to say other than Blease comment if ur enjoying this fic bc i like writing it hehe
> 
> as usual my twt is @Iesbianjohnny (the L is a capital i!) feel free to hit me up or just leave hate in my cc thats cool too

Doyoung sniffles when Johnny answers the phone.

  
“Hey, Johnny,” he says, voice wobbling, “can I come over?”

  
Johnny holds his phone between his ear and shoulder, searching through his cabinets. “Yeah, of course, Doie. What’s up?”

  
“I’ll–I’ll tell you when I get there,” Doyoung nearly whimpers. “I’ll see you soon, Johnny. Love you.”

  
“Love you too, Doie.” Johnny frowns when the line goes dead, shoving his phone back into his pocket and returning to the food on the stove. He’s making braised tofu, as Jeonghan had demanded of him after coming home from the grocery store with ingredients and scribbling down a recipe for Johnny to follow. He’d also said to just look it up on Youtube if Johnny’s two braincells couldn’t handle stir-frying some tofu and sauce together, and then blown a kiss before running off to shower.

  
Doyoung arrives about ten minutes later, tears still running down his cheeks and eyes red and puffy. He doesn’t say anything, just drops his keys on the table and shuffles into the kitchen to hug Johnny.

  
“Hey, Doyoungie,” Johnny says softly, cradling Doyoung’s head to his chest and holding him tightly. “What happened?”

  
“He–he hates me, Yuta hates me,” Doyoung hiccups out, and then he begins sobbing, leaning all of his weight onto Johnny. Johnny just lets him cry, leaning his cheek on top of Doyoung’s head and rubbing the younger’s back. Doyoung cries for a few minutes, eventually quieting down to little sniffles and hiccups. Doyoung leans back a little and Johnny reaches up to wipe away his tears, as well as the snot and drool that had accumulated during Doyoung’s ugly-crying.

  
“You just did that with your bare hand, that’s gross,” Doyoung says weakly, sniffling again.

  
“How many times have we done this for each other? Also, I’m wiping it on your shirt, if that’s any consolation.” Johnny pats Doyoung’s cheek with his other hand. Doyoung groans, pushing Johnny away and going to splash water on his face at the sink. Johnny faces the stove again, turns off the burner. “Tell me what happened.”

  
“Well, like I said, Yuta hates me. A-and I can’t even blame him, because all I did was fuck around with him when we both knew how he felt, but he-he said the meanest things, he told me verbatim that he fucking hates me and he never wants to fucking see me again.” Doyoung takes a deep breath, then laughs a little. “He came over, to return some clothes I left at his house, and he, um. Had some words.”

  
Johnny winces, turning back around to look at Doyoung. “And? Also, can you check the rice? It’s in the cooker on the counter behind you.”

  
“Are you cooking? What are you making?”

  
“Don’t sound so surprised. It’s tofu, spicy, uh, motherfuckin’ uh, _dubu_. _Dubu...jorim_. Yeah. _Dubu-jorim_ ,” Johnny grins when he remembers it properly, chewing on his thumbnail absentmindedly. “Also, it’s because Jeonghan yelled at me to, and I like him, and also he was nice enough to cover the little bit of rent I was short on this one time, so I’m basically his slave forever now. I think he has someone coming over. But anyways, back to what matters. What happened next?”

  
“It was super dramatic, honestly, Jungwoo and I had been hanging out and he fucking dipped as fast as possible, which, like, mood. But anyways, Yuta and I went to talk and he basically told me I was a cold heartless asshole who used him and didn’t care about him or his feelings, and I got pissed off in the moment and said he should’ve known it wasn’t going anywhere from the start but then he was all like, o _h so you introduce fuck buddies to your close friends and drink wine and fall asleep on the couch together and do couple shit?_ and then he just repeated that I used him and called me a dick and said all the stuff about hating me and then left.” Doyoung crosses his arms, heaving a long sigh.

  
“Well, if you didn’t have any feelings for him in the first place, why are we here?” Johnny asks, even though he already knows the answer. Doyoung does, too, and he glares at Johnny for aiming where it’s going to hurt.

  
“Because I fucking was starting to like him.” Doyoung stomps his foot. “I really was and I fucked it up so bad, dude. I can’t even be mad at anyone but myself.”

  
“I’m not going to say that isn’t true, but hey. You still have feelings, you’re human and having shit like that hurled at you regardless of whether you deserve it or not is going to hurt, so tonight you get to be sad and angry and talk shit about Yuta with me because that’s how it works.” Johnny takes down some plates from a cabinet, sets them on the counter before pulling Doyoung in for another hug. Jeonghan comes flying down the hall past them just as there’s a knock on the door.

  
“I got it!”

  
“Yeah, we figured...anyways, get some food, Doie.” Johnny kisses Doyoung’s forehead and grabs his own plate.

 

 

Johnny and Doyoung have claimed the couch, leaving Jeonghan and company on the floor. Company is a guy named Joshua with a very punchable face, which Johnny vocalizes.

  
“I know he’s just meant to get his ass kicked, but be nice, I like him.” Jeonghan leans against Joshua, who seems unbothered by all of this, cheeks stuffed with rice and tofu.

  
“I think I just do that to people, my roommates are scary lesbians who can’t go a day without saying how bad they wanna beat me up.” Joshua plays with Jeonghan’s hair, shrugging one shoulder. Doyoung laughs a little where he’s leaning against Johnny’s shoulder, picking at his food.

  
“What’s up with you?” Jeonghan eyes Doyoung with a questioning look, biting back a smile when Johnny takes the fork from Doyoung’s hand and holds it to his mouth.

  
“Stop pushing it around on your plate, I fucking slaved over this.”

  
“Fuck you,” Doyoung says around the food now in his mouth. “Also, Jeonghan, no-strings-attached shit literally never stays that way, and it’s stupid and I’m stupid.”

  
Looking back and forth between Johnny and Doyoung, half-smiling, Jeonghan tilts his head. “Cheers, then, I’ll drink to that.”

  
Doyoung raises his glass of water halfheartedly.

 

 

Ten lets himself into Johnny’s place to find Johnny and Doyoung lying together on the couch, fast asleep. Doyoung is drooling onto Johnny’s shirt and Johnny looks a little uncomfortable, one leg hanging off the side of the couch, but neither of them do so much as twitch when Ten walks in. Ten grins and takes out his phone to snap a couple of pictures. Jeonghan’s in the kitchen, another guy helping him wash the dishes, and they only spare Ten a glance before carrying on.

  
“Hey,” Ten says softly, leaning down to give Doyoung’s shoulder a little shake. “Hey, get up.”

  
Doyoung takes a deep breath, shifts slightly, and carries on sleeping. Ten sighs and flicks his ear. Whining, Doyoung lifts his head right away, squinting around for the culprit. When his eyes find Ten, Doyoung scowls a little. Ten doesn’t take it personally.

  
“Don’t you think you guys’ll be more comfy in an actual bed? I’d be shocked if his entire body isn’t numb from how you’re laying right now.” Ten smiles. Still sulking, Doyoung sits up and gives Johnny’s cheek a couple of clumsy pats. Johnny grumbles softly and turns away, twitching his nose.

  
“Johnny,” Doyoung pinches his cheek this time. “Come on. Bed.”

  
Johnny groans and rolls off of the couch, taking Doyoung with him. They land in a heap on the floor and Doyoung flails one arm, slapping at Johnny’s shoulder. “You’re crushing me.”

  
“If the carpet didn’t smell like cat pee I would’ve just stayed there,” Johnny mumbles, slowly getting up and pulling Doyoung with him. When he stretches his arms over his head, Ten pokes his exposed tummy, making Johnny giggle.

  
“Go get in your bed,” Ten tells Johnny, standing on his tiptoes to give the taller a chaste kiss.

  
“Are you coming?”

  
“Is there room?”

  
“We’ll make room.” Johnny shuffles after Doyoung to his bedroom, glancing over his shoulder at Ten. “Eat something, if you haven’t already, I set aside some dinner for you. ‘s in the fridge.”

  
Ten finds himself grinning as he walks to the kitchen. He eats perched on the counter, talking quietly with Jeonghan and his friend, Joshua.

  
“He said his brother is coming in a couple days and I’m not allowed to meet him because I won’t behave.” Jeonghan pouts, crossing his arms and looking extremely put-upon. Ten laughs aloud, then chokes on his food. “Slick. Gonna talk him into letting me join?” Jeonghan bats his eyes, twirls some of his hair around his forefinger and leans back against Joshua as he wraps an arm around Jeonghan. Nodding his head, Ten coughs a couple of times and pushes around the few grains of rice left on his plate.

  
“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?”

  
Jeonghan takes Ten’s plate to wash before Ten can even argue against it, waving him off. “Run along, go fight Doyoung for cuddling rights or something.”

  
When Ten walks into Johnny’s bedroom, he can’t help but grin and take out his phone to snap another picture. Johnny and Doyoung are nothing more than a lump under the blanket, tufts of their hair sticking out, Johnny’s inky and Doyoung’s soft brown.

  
Funnily enough, Ten realizes he doesn’t find himself jealous, or thinking he should be worried about Johnny and Doyoung. Really, he’s just amazed at a friendship that’s so close—the pair have clearly been to hell and back together, so they’ll show their affection however they want, be as close as they want, and couldn’t care less about the assumptions people make. It’s kind of amazing, honestly. Ten’s glad they have each other.

  
Ten crawls beneath the covers to settle down behind Johnny, but the elder wraps an arm around him and easily pulls Ten in between himself and Doyoung, tucking his face into Ten’s neck.

 

 

 

When Ten wakes up, Doyoung isn’t in bed, and the smell of coffee has begun creeping throughout the apartment. Johnny’s already awake beside him, using one hand to play absentmindedly with Ten’s hair while the other one holds his phone, thumbing through notifications.

  
“Morning,” Ten murmurs, shifting to rest his head against Johnny’s chest. He breathes in deep, appreciating the faded, woodsy smell he’s grown so used to around Johnny.

  
“Good morning.” Johnny drops his phone to roll over on top of Ten, his weight comfortable. One of his hands finds Ten’s as Johnny presses lazy kisses to the younger’s cheek, his temple, his forehead, before tucking his face into Ten’s neck. “I have therapy and a doctor’s appointment today. And I’m going to check out that school. Then I work tonight. I don’t wanna do it,” he whines.

  
“I hear you, babe.” Ten cards his fingers through Johnny’s hair. “I’ll go with you to do your stuff if you want. I’m gonna die if I don’t drink some coffee, though, so come on, let’s get up.”

  
Johnny’s answer is just a soft _mkay_ before he moves off of Ten to let the other up. Johnny stays in his bed a minute longer, watching Ten stretch with glazed eyes. He’s slower to follow, stiff in his back and neck when he stands up. Ten pauses to watch Johnny massage his shoulder with a wince.

  
“Is it snowing? Or did it get colder in this hell country or something?” Johnny grumbles, rolling his shoulder a few times to try and loosen the tensed muscles. “I always get all achey like a fucking old man when the weather changes even slightly.”

  
A glance out the window tells Ten it isn’t snowing, but the glass pane feels like ice when he presses his fingertips against it. He wrinkles his nose and walks over to hug Johnny from behind instead, pushing his hands under the elder’s shirt to flatten his palms over Johnny’s tummy. He swears Johnny’s gotten even skinnier somehow.

  
“Is there anything that helps?” Ten presses a kiss to the topmost knob of Johnny’s spine. Johnny hums and places one hand over Ten’s.

  
“I’ll take a hot shower or something. You’re holding me like we’re expecting.”

  
“I just felt our child kick. Any name ideas?” Ten can feel Johnny’s giggles vibrating in his chest, and it makes him smile, leaning his head against Johnny’s back. “How are you feeling? You okay in your gourd?”

  
“I mean, technically no, never. But like, as of right now? Eh. I’m alright.” Johnny turns around to look at Ten properly. The purple rings beneath his eyes are just as bad as the first day Ten and Johnny met. His arm loops around Ten’s waist to pull him closer, and Johnny sighs, leaning his forehead against Ten’s. “I’m tired. I just wanna get back in bed.”

  
“I know.” Ten brushes Johnny’s hair back, then slowly runs his fingers up through it from his nape, feeling the elder sag a little against him. “Come on, let’s get something to eat, yeah?”

  
Doyoung is on the couch, puffy-eyed and messy-haired, clutching a mug of coffee. He just pouts at Johnny when the elder walks over to kiss the top of his head as a good morning greeting.

  
“You look like the world’s saddest bunny. How you feeling?” Johnny pinches Doyoung’s cheek. Swatting his hand away feebly, Doyoung sighs.

  
“I’m fine. Ten kicked me out of your bed.”

  
“I was sleeping and therefore cannot be held responsible for my actions,” says Ten from the kitchen. That only makes Doyoung pout more, and he sets his mug down to hold his arms out to Johnny with a pitiful expression. Johnny sits and pulls Doyoung close to him, and they stay like that, only half-awake and tangled together on the couch not unlike last night.

  
“Yuta’s a dick ‘n I’m gonna beat him up for making you sad.” Johnny’s eyes are drooping even as he says it. Doyoung just hums, tension leaving his body each time Johnny cards a gentle hand through his hair.

  
“What d’you have going on today?” Doyoung traces the letters tattooed on Johnny’s finger, eyes going unfocused as if he’s zoning out. Johnny watches him through his lashes.

  
“Therapy, doctor, new job stuff, work, coming home and crying over school but then remembering I get to drop out at the end of this semester anyway.”

  
“New job stuff is today?” Doyoung blinks a few times and raises his eyebrows up at Johnny. Ten has to try not to laugh at the way Doyoung widens his eyes, his lips pursed with the threat of a smile. Doyoung bats his lashes a couple of times.

  
“God. Let me call Kibum and talk to him about it before I go bringing you all along to check the place out. I have to start getting ready for therapy and the doctor’s, you guys hang out while I get all that out of the way. Go egg Yuta’s house or slash his tires or something.” Johnny ruffles Doyoung’s hair and extracts himself from the younger’s arms, standing up. “My shoulder’s locking up, ‘m gonna go take a shower and stuff.”

  
Ten watches Johnny amble off to the bathroom, then turns to Doyoung. “You down to go get coffee with a friend?”

  
“Who?”

  
“You’ll see.” Ten drums his fingers against the counter, waiting on his bread to toast. Doyoung narrows his eyes for a moment, skeptical. Then, he shrugs.

  
“Sure, whatever, I guess. Not like I have anything better to do,” Doyoung sighs. Grinning, Ten claps his hands together.

  
There’s two slices of peanut butter toast waiting on the kitchen counter when Johnny walks back out, his hair still damp. A smile fights its way onto Johnny’s face. He picks the plate up and carries on to the living room, where Ten and Doyoung both lounge, on their phones.

  
“Hi, my honey boy,” Ten coos, dropping his phone beside him and spreading his legs slightly. He slaps his thighs. “Come sit and let me feed you.”

  
Johnny blanches a little, looking from Ten’s face to his lap, then back up at his face.

  
“You see. About that, I’m like, big. And you’re not. So-“

  
“It wasn’t a question, I said come sit, motherfucker.”

  
Johnny looks around as if searching for an escape route, then sighs and accepts his fate. Ten beams as Johnny straddles his lap, cheeks pink. Johnny sits, but he doesn’t settle his full weight, pouting at Ten.

  
“Are you happy?”

  
“No, actually sit down before you get a cramp. You’re not gonna crush me.”

  
“I think you underestimate–“

  
“I swear to god, you fucking degenerate.” Ten pinches Johnny’s thighs until he finally sits down fully, whining and slapping Ten’s hands away.

  
“Do I have to deal with this all the time now?” complains Doyoung, watching with a disgusted face as Johnny tries to eat his toast, hindered somewhat by Ten pinching his cheeks.

  
“Jealousy is a disease, bitch.” Ten grins at Doyoung.

 

 

 

“I don’t know how to stop thinking about it. I have nightmares about it almost every night, and some nights I’m watching from outside when they just..pull me out of the car, and I’m dead, and somehow those are the nights I sleep better. I didn’t deserve what they did for me, the couple that saw it happen. They barely missed crashing too, because of me, but that woman still fought until they sent me to an institution instead of jail. Not that the state hospital was much better than jail, but–“

  
“But it’s the sentiment,” Junmyeon finishes for Johnny. Nodding, Johnny toes his shoes off and puts his feet up on the couch, hugging his legs and resting his chin on his knees.

  
“Yeah. They said they forgave me, the day I had to go to court. I could’ve killed them.”

  
“But you didn’t.”

  
“That’s a fucking stupid thing to say. I was so fucking stupid, I was so distracted with my own dumb problems and trying to kill myself that I almost hurt someone else, it’s the one thing I never wanted to do.”

  
“Johnny. You were the only one hurt. You _have_ to forgive yourself. How old were you when the accident happened? How long has it been?” Junmyeon peers at Johnny over his glasses.

  
“Five years. I was seventeen,” Johnny mumbles, eyes cast downward.

  
“Looking at seventeen year-olds now, what do you see?”

  
“I don’t know, they’re all dumb children to m–wait. Don’t do that to me.”

  
“I’m not doing anything. In your own words, you were a dumb child. It was a mistake. A dangerous one, one that almost cost your life and could’ve cost others’ too, but it didn’t. Everyone else has forgiven you—I know it’s hard, but you have to forgive yourself. You have to, or you’ll never be able to get out of this trauma loop, and you’ll keep waking up in that car, or watching them pull your body out. I’d like to get you in contact with a trauma specialist–“ Junmyeon smiles a little at the exasperated look on Johnny’s face. “I know just the idea of seeing even more therapists is probably tiring, and you might feel embarrassed or like you’re particularly fucked up, but that’s just how it is sometimes.

  
“Do you know what EMDR therapy is?” Junmyeon tilts his head. He appears pleasantly surprised when Johnny nods his head yes.

  
“There was a point when I was like, nineteen, I think. I was having panic attacks any time I heard a car horn honking and going, like, days without sleeping, and if I did somehow get to sleep I’d sleepwalk–yeah. Anyways. I had enough sense to know what PTSD looked like, I looked up what the hell I could do to stop it, and I read about trauma therapy, but I was already out on my own and pretty close to being homeless most of the time, so it was out of the question. After that I just..never gave it any thought again.” A crease appears between Johnny’s brows, and he chews on his lip in apprehension.

  
“I’d like you to see my friend Kris Wu, just for a trial session. It works for some, it doesn’t for others, but if you’re willing and have an open mind it’s worth trying. I’m also working on figuring out a medication to start you on, but we’re trying to decide if antidepressants or antipsychotics are going to be better in your case.”

  
“I used to take SSRIs because antipsychotics made me comatose half of the time and even more insane the other half,” Johnny says, messing with the hole in his jeans. “I don’t remember the name, but I was on a really high dose ‘n they helped me keep my shit together better than without them, so.”

  
“That’s helpful information, Johnny, thank you.” Junmyeon scribbles something into his binder. “We’ll work it out. Don’t worry. You mentioned your brother is coming to visit. Feeling nervous?”

  
“Yeah,” Johnny laughs dryly. “I already know he’s going to yell at me for not eating well, but it’s just ‘cause he cares. I’m really excited, too, though. We haven’t seen each other in a few years.”

  
“Do you think coming in for a session together would be beneficial? Just from what you said it sounds like your brother may want to air some grievances, and it’ll feel less like him yelling at you with me here to mediate.”

  
Johnny’s quiet. He counts the ticks of the clock. It’s two minutes, one hundred and twenty ticks, before Johnny finally takes a breath and speaks again. “If he wants to. Donghyuck can be a little intense, but he also gets weird and closed off when it comes to talking about emotional stuff. He’s tough to navigate.”

  
“Figuring people out is my job, Johnny. Keep me updated and I’ll do the same for you, okay?”

  
One side of his mouth quirking up, Johnny nods.

 

 

 

Sicheng’s hair, long enough to fall over his eyes, is pulled back into a little bun and he’s sweating, but he grins at Ten as he climbs into his backseat. “Sorry I stink.”

  
“We hit you up kind of last minute, so it’s cool. What kind of dance you into? I used to do ballet.” Ten glances at Sicheng in the rearview mirror.

  
“Oh, same. Contemporary and interpretive stuff too, really just whatever I’m into.”

  
“Ooh, you must be good,” Doyoung says, and Sicheng’s smile grows sheepish.

  
“I mean, yeah. Thanks. Where are we going?”

  
“We’re gonna go astral project in Target and see what our disembodied souls decide to buy.” Ten speeds up to pass someone, and Doyoung grips the edge of his seat, paling slightly. Ten glances at him. “Pussy, I didn’t even do ninety.”

  
“Oh my god, I hate you,” says Doyoung through his teeth.

  
“I have to ask—why Jaehyun? He’s annoying and dumb. Sorry to slander your boyfriend or whatever.” Ten drums his fingers on the steering wheel, humming under his breath.

  
“I mean, I won’t deny that Jaehyun’s a big fat idiot at times, but he’s honestly really sweet. He cried while we were watching Coco the other night, and like, it just reminded me of why I like him and his big head. He reminds me to lighten up sometimes, I can be a little too serious about everything.”

  
“What’s your sign?” Ten turns sharply down another street, and Doyoung grabs the handle over the door. “Stop being dramatic or I won’t buy you coffee. Sicheng, zodiac, now.” Ten snaps his fingers.

  
“Ox?”

  
“Not the Chinese zodiac, you sweet baby-faced angel.”

  
“Oh. Then I dunno. My birthday’s October twenty-eighth.”

  
“Oh, god, he’s an October Scorpio. Get the fuck out of my car now.”

  
Amidst Sicheng’s giggling, Doyoung moans pathetically. “Yuta’s an October Scorpio..”

  
Sicheng leans forward in between the front seats to look at Doyoung curiously. “Who’s Yuta?”

  
And so, Doyoung relays the story to Sicheng, whose face remains impressively impassive as he listens, nodding every so often. When Doyoung’s done, they sit in silence for a minute, and Sicheng taps his chin thoughtfully.

  
“It honestly sounds more like he was just trying to say whatever was gonna hurt your feelings than anything else. Which, I mean, is valid, considering.” Sicheng shrugs. Doyoung turns to glare at him, and Sicheng narrows his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, you got yourself into this.”

  
“I vote that we get flowers from Target and show up to his house blasting music Say Anything-style. And force Doyoung to apologize and grovel at Yuta’s feet for forgiveness.” Ten pulls into the parking lot. Sicheng nods his agreement, and they look at Doyoung, waiting on an answer.

  
“Fine. But they gotta be fake flowers, real ones are expensive.”

 

 

 

Johnny’s eyes are red when Ten pulls up outside the hospital, and he climbs into the passenger seat without a word. Doyoung’s been banished to the backseat with Sicheng so that Ten can reach over and interlace his fingers with Johnny’s.

  
“How was it? You feeling alright?” Ten gives Johnny’s hand a squeeze. Johnny hums and rolls down his window, taking his cigarettes out. Ten squeezes his hand again. “No smoking in my car. Gonna talk or not in the mood?”

  
A shake of Johnny’s head answers Ten’s question. Johnny rolls the window back up and sinks down in the seat, heaving a loud sigh. His thumb strokes the back of Ten’s hand absentmindedly.

  
“I think my hearing’s starting to go in my other ear. So that’s fun.” Johnny finally speaks after riding in silence for a few minutes. “They did one of those tests while I was at the doctor ‘n I didn’t do so hot. Longterm effects of brain injury stuff, I guess. My doc said that I need to quit smoking and eat better ‘cause that’s making it worse.”

  
“Shit, Johnny,” Doyoung mumbles, leaning forward so he can reach around the seat and hug Johnny from behind. Johnny uses his free hand to pat Doyoung’s.

  
“It’s okay, Doie. I’m fine. They said it might not go away fully _or_ it will and I’ll end up needing hearing aids, which I definitely can’t afford, but I gotta get better before we see.” Johnny plays with Ten’s fingers. “Where are we going?”

  
“We’re gonna watch Doyoung grovel,” Sicheng answers. Johnny jumps, turning to stare wide-eyed at the younger.

  
“Where the hell did you come from?”

  
“Hell, but also dance class. Want some coffee?” Sicheng offers Johnny his iced coffee, and after a moment of consideration, Johnny takes a sip. Sicheng beams. “Ten asked me if I wanted to get coffee. We ended up also walking around Target for an hour listening to Doyoung piss and moan like a little _bee-yotch_ about this Yuta dude.”

  
Doyoung whines a protest, but there’s little conviction in his voice.

 

 

Yuta looks from Doyoung, to Johnny, Ten, and Sicheng, who are all leaning against the hood of Ten’s car. “Is there a reason we have an audience?”

  
“They’re nosy and this was Ten’s idea so he says he’s entitled to watch me embarrass myself. I got you these,” Doyoung holds out a bouquet of plastic flowers, which Yuta takes after a second.

  
“Are these fake?”

  
“Real flowers are expensive and I was already using food money on them.”

  
“Fair.” Yuta plucks one from the bunch and tucks it behind his ear. The red of the artificial rose matches his hair. “So you’re here to beg for forgiveness? Get on your knees and grovel for real, then, bitch.”

  
“Do I really have to?” Doyoung whines, and Yuta raises an eyebrow.

  
“Okay, well, I’m gonna go back to doing what I wanted to do and stop wasting my time–“

  
“No, wait.” Doyoung grabs Yuta’s sleeve to stop him from going back inside his apartment. Johnny can see Doyoung swallowing the lump of pride in his throat before taking a deep breath and slowly sinking onto his knees.

  
“Oh shit, Yuta’s really making him do it,” Sicheng whispers.

  
“I like him,” Ten whispers back.

  
“I used you. I just led you on and I knew I was giving you false hope but I kept doing it because I liked how you made me feel without being responsible for commitment and a relationship. Honestly, I deserved all that shit you said to me.” Doyoung looks up at Yuta, chewing on his lower lip

  
Frowning a little, Yuta looks down at his feet. “I just said that shit ‘cause I was mad. I don’t hate you. My feelings are just hurt.”

  
“Wait, though. Even if you did hate me, I still kind of deserve it.” Doyoung takes one of Yuta’s hands in both of his own. “Fuck, Yuta, I really fuckin’ like you and I blew it, like, so bad because I’m stupid and emotionally constipated.”

  
“Wonder where you learned that from.” Yuta glances pointedly at Johnny, who flicks ashes off of his cigarette and raises his middle finger while taking a drag. Yuta snorts and looks back down at Doyoung. “Go on.”

  
“I’m sorry, Yuta. You’re so great and I fucked up something that could’ve been really good. You don’t have to forgive me, but if you do, even just still being your friend would be, like, a privilege.” Doyoung sighs and hangs his head. “My knees hurt, can I get up now?”

  
“Yeah, old man, get up.” Yuta helps Doyoung to his feet. Then, he pulls Doyoung in for a hug, tiptoeing in order to throw his arms around the taller’s neck.

  
Johnny shudders beside Ten, and Ten looks over, expecting some dry remark, but Johnny’s silent. Johnny reaches up to rub his shoulder, tries raising his arm and winces.

  
“Fuck me,” Johnny mumbles, voice shaking. “Not this shit now.”

  
“Hey, talk to me.” Ten goes to take Johnny’s hand but the elder flinches away, still massaging his shoulder with a frown.

  
“It’s fine. I’m _fine_ , it just hurts. I’m fine,” Johnny says harshly, sounding more like he’s convincing himself rather than Ten. He rolls his shoulder back and hisses in pain, tears threatening at his eyes. “Fuck, ow.”

  
“Johnny–“ Ten tries again, but this time Johnny shoots him a feeble glare.

  
“I said it’s fine. It just hurts. Fuck, Doyoung, are you staying here or what? I need to go home.” Johnny rubs his eyes and waits on Doyoung’s answer.

  
“Is everything okay? I can–“ Doyoung starts towards Johnny, who shakes his head.

  
“It was just a question, whatever, I’m walking home. It’s only a few blocks anyway.” Johnny turns on his heel and stalks away, rubbing his shoulder again and swearing under his breath. Ten goes to follow, but a hand on his shoulder stops him.

  
“Leave him, he’ll blow up if you keep pushing it,” Doyoung says quietly. “This happens sometimes. He’ll cool off when his arm stops bugging him, if you keep going and he snaps on you he’ll feel worse after.”

  
“I don’t think he should be alone..” Ten shifts from foot to foot, chewing on his lower lip.

  
“Neither do I, but I’m serious. He’ll flip out on you and say some really harsh stuff or have a panic attack in the middle of the sidewalk and some idiot will call the cops and it’ll be a whole new problem. Just leave it.” Doyoung squeezes Ten’s shoulder. “You guys head home or to his or whatever. I think I’m gonna stay here. Thanks for making me do this.”

  
“Yeah, Doie, I’m glad it worked out.” Ten watches Johnny’s retreating form as he says it, and Doyoung sighs.

  
“He’ll be okay. He doesn’t mean to get all agitated.”

  
“No, I know. Just worries me.” Ten jingles his keys. “I’m gonna drop Sicheng off and go check on him.”

  
Doyoung half-smiles, hugging Ten with one arm before loping back to where Yuta waits in his front doorway. He waves to Sicheng, who offers a grin in return.

 

 

 

Jeonghan answers the door when Ten knocks, covering his mouth to yawn. “He’s been in the shower for, like, thirty minutes,” Jeonghan says, “I love the dude but go tell him to quit using all the hot water.”

  
Ten offers a smile, nods his head and walks past Jeonghan into the apartment. He can see the steam coming from under the bathroom door, and it’s locked when Ten tries the knob. Ten knocks on the door a couple of times.

  
“Johnny? Babe?” Ten calls. “Can I come in?”

  
The hiss of the shower comes to a stop, and a few seconds later the lock clicks. Ten lets himself in, sweat beading on his skin almost immediately with how warm it is. “Jesus, Johnny, you trying to boil in here?”

  
“Maybe. I was having a panic attack, I don’t know.” Johnny adjusts the towel around his waist, rolling his shoulders back. “Fucking hell, it still hurts. No one tells you that chronic pain comes with all this shit but here we are.”

  
Johnny flinches at first when Ten reaches for him, watching Ten’s fingers trace the scar on his shoulder with furrowed brows. He gently brushes Ten’s hand away, gesturing for him to wait as Johnny pulls on clean boxers and sweatpants. Johnny reaches past Ten to hang his towel up, bringing them closer.

  
“Go on, keep looking at it. Dunno what’s so fucking fascinating.” Johnny drops his hand back to his side. He’s the Johnny that Ten met almost three months ago now all over again, eyes dark and lips pulled downward. “It starts to hurt as bad as it used to and when this happens I’m just–I’m back in that car crash and I can’t breathe and my arm is fucking mangled but the people I could’ve killed are right there promising it’s going to be okay. It’s fucking ridiculous, y’know? I should’ve died, the first time and the second and third and fourth times.

  
“Instead I’m still here losing my hearing at twenty-two and seeing...god, I don’t even know, five different doctors and therapists? I’m trying but it’s so fucking embarrassing, Ten,” Johnny laughs, but his lip is quivering and tears are already leaking from his eyes. “I couldn’t even kill myself right so I’m stuck here and I’m so fucking tired,” he chuckles again and it turns into a sob.

  
Ten embraces Johnny in stunned silence, allowing him to lean against the younger, Johnny’s face tucked into Ten’s neck.

  
“Hey, shh,” soothes Ten, carding his fingers through Johnny’s hair as he cries. “It’s okay,” Ten whispers, “You’re gonna be okay.”

  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can’t keep it together, nothing’s even wrong and I always do this shit,” Johnny stammers, and Ten shushes him gently.

  
“It’s okay, Johnny, it isn’t your fault,” Ten says, “You’re trying so hard, honey, it’s gonna be worth it soon. I promise.”

  
Johnny doesn’t say any more, just holds Ten a bit tighter.

  
“Maybe let’s reschedule your job thing today, hm? I’m sure Kibum will understand, and I feel like you’d be better with some rest before you have to go to work.” Ten strokes Johnny’s hair, pulling back to dampen a washcloth with cool water and wipe his face gently.

  
“Flaking before I even have a chance to interview?” Johnny laughs. Ten pinches his nose in retaliation.

  
“I can always call..”

  
“No, I’ll do it,” grumbles Johnny, leaning his head on Ten’s shoulder. “I’m so tired, dime.”

  
“I know, baby. It’s gonna be okay.”

 

 

 

Doyoung comes to pick Johnny up from work two hours early. When Johnny isn’t already waiting outside the restaurant, Doyoung enters through the staff door, searching for his friend. He finds Johnny sitting on the counter as Taeyong and another staff member examine his hand. They’re both frowning.

  
“What happened?” Doyoung rushes over.

  
“I didn’t mean to, Doie, I swear it was an accident, I didn’t mean to,” Johnny whispers, flinching when Sehun prods a little too sharply at the gash on his palm.

  
“Some fucking idiot threw the steak knives into the water instead of on the wash rack where they’re supposed to go, he grabbed a blade by accident while on dish duty,” Taeyong tells Doyoung. The younger deflates a little, expression slightly less troubled.

  
“You shouldn’t have let him handle the knives at all, but okay,” Doyoung mutters, taking Johnny’s hand to inspect it.

  
“I’m sorry, what?” Johnny laughs, incredulous. He yanks his hand away from Doyoung. “What, Doyoung, you think I’m just constantly on the lookout for an opportunity to slit my wrists? Oh, yeah, I’m at fucking work, why don’t I slice my hand open because a knife was there and I _felt_ like causing a fucking problem and disrupting everyone else?”

  
“Johnny..” Doyoung takes a step back. “That’s not what I was saying, I-“

  
“Then what were you saying? Like,” Johnny huffs out a laugh, “wow, Doie. Thanks for trusting me.”

  
Doyoung is right behind Johnny as the elder grabs his back and storms out.

  
“Do you blame me? Why _would_ I trust you with this? How many times did Donghyuck have to walk in and find you lying half dead in a pool of your own fucking blood, or how many times did I have to take you to the hospital to get stitched up when you cut too deep? Historically speaking, you haven’t given me a lot of reasons to trust that you won’t do something stupid with anything even remotely sharp!” Doyoung’s voice has risen nearly to a shout, and simultaneously, Johnny stops short in the middle of the parking lot.

  
“Cool. Okay.” Johnny slowly turns to face Doyoung. His expression is scarily neutral, but his voice wavers. “I love you, Doyoung, but I never fucking asked you to stay through everything. If this is how you really feel, go find a best friend that you do trust so you don’t have to lock up your fucking kitchen knives every time they come over.”

  
“Johnny–“

  
“No, seriously. I was doing my job, my boss can’t sit there and fucking babysit me while I wash dishes, so shit happens, okay? Forget the ride, I’ll walk home.” Johnny starts backing up. “And for the record, if I was gonna, what was it, _do something stupid_? I'd do it at home, not in a grimy fucking kitchen.”

  
Doyoung has no choice but to watch Johnny walk away in silence.


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im sorry for disappearing from this story for like???? 5 months??? i dont even know how long it's been but either way my life got really hectic for a minute and i also struggled with writing this chapter for the longest time. i'm still not happy with it, but i've gone thru and edited so many times and literally cried over not being able to figure out what i hate so much about this chapter (plus a big chunk of it got accidentally deleted and lost forever) so i'm just giving up and publishing the best version. i'm sorry if this chapter seems filler-y or all over the place. 
> 
> uhh i've been too lazy to go and fix previous chapters' a/ns but for anyone still reading, i have a new twt because my old one was suspended lol. my new twt is @dykejisung.
> 
> uhhhhh please comment on this or jump on twt to help me not feel awful about this story and chapter it would be m,uch appreciated
> 
> with that all being said enjoy this chapter...please comment if you enjoyed it/comment what you enjoyed etc etc because writers rely on feedback and the ratio of people who just read to people who read and actually interact is exhausting and saddening to think about 
> 
> oh wait warning for the brief use of a homophobic slur in this chapter but it's used jokingly between two mlm and not out of malice!

_“Call an ambulance, someone call an ambulance! Quick!”_

  
_There’s the crunch of glass under shoes. Johnny doesn’t feel much, just a tingling sensation, warmth on the left side of his body. Everything is blurry when he opens his eyes, stained with red, and they sting with each blink. Johnny’s still able to make out the red and blue lights flashing through the blood running into his eyes._

  
_“Oh,” Johnny groans, tasting iron. There’s little pieces of glass in his mouth but he can’t find the strength to spit them out._

  
_“Oh god, oh my god, it’s a kid, he’s just a kid,” a woman’s voice says from somewhere nearby, breaking with barely-restrained tears._

  
_Johnny’s neck screams in protest as he lifts his head and he chokes out an attempt at speaking, but it’s weak and results in him dribbling blood everywhere more than anything else._

  
_“Don’t move, kid, just stay there. Keep breathing.” This time it’s another, deeper voice talking to him. Johnny can hear metal crunching and creaking. It sounds as if someone’s struggling to open his car door. Johnny tries to reach for help, but he gets another shock of agony for his efforts, this time in his left arm. He manages a strangled moan of pain—Johnny’s starting to feel sick from the taste of blood in his mouth, and he’s sobering up very quickly now that he knows he’s crashed, and he’s going to be in so much trouble–_

  
_“His arm–his arm, oh god–“_

  
_Johnny coughs. His side twinges with the movement, and Johnny lets his head drop back against the seat, chest heaving. It’s hard to breathe with blood in his mouth, running from his nose and clogging his throat, and when Johnny coughs again it sprays red everywhere. He can’t catch his breath, and he barely feels the hands on him, just the pain._

  
_“He’s hyperventilating–“_

  
_“Careful, watch his arm–“_

  
_Then there’s a gentle hand pushing Johnny’s hair off of his face, wiping the blood away as best as they can. Johnny isn’t sure if he’s even breathing anymore. The lights, the faint wail of sirens approaching, the voices overlapping one another—they all blend together and fade in and out of darkness._

 

 

Johnny wakes up crying, his heart beating erratically. The more he tries, the more Johnny can’t seem to catch his breath, still feeling like he’s stuck in the car with the sensation of blood filling his lungs. 

  
Johnny’s heart is pounding in his ears and he can feel tears flowing hotly down his face. He clutches at his chest, which is still heaving, with one hand. Distantly, he can hear his own gasping. 

  
“Johnny?” Ten sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When Johnny looks at Ten, his eyes are wide, glassy, pupils blown like he isn’t really seeing the younger. 

  
“Hey, okay, it’s okay,” Ten puts his hand on Johnny’s, waits to see if he’ll push it away or not. When Johnny doesn’t move, Ten interlaces their fingers and squeezes. “Johnny? It was a nightmare, you’re here with me. Come back to me, you’re safe,” Ten soothes. 

  
Johnny’s heart is still racing, and he’s trying to breathe through his sobs now, squeezing Ten’s hand so tightly it must hurt a bit. Ten’s voice is fading in and out with the sound of sirens. 

  
“....have to breathe, Johnny. Come on..” it fades into white noise, then comes back, “..okay?” 

  
Johnny closes his eyes and tries to focus on Ten’s words, though he’s still hearing the roar of his heartbeat louder than anything else. 

  
“Speak up, you have to–“ Johnny finally manages to get in a deep breath, other hand dropping from his chest to his lap. He hangs his head, panting, “Everything's loud.”

  
“It’s fine, just keep breathing, okay?” Ten brushes his thumb over the back of Johnny’s hand as he starts counting breaths with the elder. 

  
Eventually, Johnny sags against Ten, still breathing harder than before. He’s clammy, shaking a little. Every so often he sniffles and uses the hand that isn’t holding Ten’s to wipe his eyes. 

 

 

Johnny heaves a sigh, laying his head on top of Ten’s. The younger is leaning against Johnny, his head on Johnny’s shoulder and arms around his waist while Johnny cuts up some fruit for his breakfast. “This isn’t how I wanted today to start.” 

  
“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” Ten murmurs, squeezing Johnny gently. “I...do you think it was worse because of your shoulder bugging you yesterday?” Johnny’s quiet, and Ten chews on his lip. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t pry, I just–“ 

  
“Nah, you’re right. No apologies.” Johnny sets down the knife and tilts Ten’s chin up for a kiss. “Thank you for being patient with me.” 

  
“Mhm,” Ten wraps his arms around Johnny’s neck, kisses him again. “I love you,” he murmurs, feeling Johnny smile. 

  
“I love you too.” Johnny kisses the corner of Ten’s mouth. “Let’s eat, ‘m actually hungry for once.” 

  
They’re on Ten’s couch, sharing a bowl of fruit—or at least, Johnny’s eating it, trying to convince a stubborn Ten to just try some, and calling him a fucking freak when Ten refuses—and watching the news when Taeyong shuffles into the living room, rubbing his eyes. Ten nudges Johnny to scoot over and make a space for Taeyong to sit. 

  
“Morning,” Taeyong says around a yawn. He collapses onto the couch, squinting at the television screen. “God, the news? You’re like old people.” 

  
Johnny snorts, tips his head back to laugh, and Ten starts giggling, answering with his own question. 

  
“What would you rather we watch?” 

  
Taeyong’s eyes widen. “No, it’s fine, I was just j–“

  
“Chill, we don’t bite,” Ten laughs even harder, handing the remote to Taeyong. He stands up, grabbing his mug. “Anyone want coffee while I’m up?” 

  
“Please?” Taeyong groans, pulling up Netflix instead. 

  
“Milk and sugar?” Ten’s voice comes from the kitchen. 

  
“Just a little bit, thank you!” Taeyong answers before he turns to look at Johnny instead. “Um..I was–this probably isn’t even, like, my business, I was just wondering, like, abou–“ 

  
“Spit it out, Taeyong.” Johnny says. 

  
“Sorry,” Taeyong looks down at his lap, “I just wanted to ask if everything was okay after yesterday, I guess? With your hand, and your friend..”

  
“Oh. Yeah, my hand’s fine. Doyoung, uh, we’re.....huh. I’m kinda pissed at him right now.” Johnny looks at his hand, which is wrapped in some gauze and medical tape. 

  
“Oh,” Taeyong mimics, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m sorry.” 

  
“What’s up?” Ten returns with two mugs in hand, giving one to Taeyong and sitting back down in between them. 

  
“I didn’t tell you, did I?” Johnny murmurs, resting his chin in his palm and staring absently out the sliding glass door onto Ten and Taeyong’s balcony. “Me and Doyoung fought last night, I’m mad at him right now.” 

  
Ten holds his hands up. “Can you maybe elaborate?” 

  
Reluctantly, Johnny relays the story to Ten, whose expression goes from expectant, to confused, to angry, and finally, shocked. Taeyong, who’d missed the latter half of Johnny and Doyoung’s argument, listens to the retelling as well, furrow between his brows growing deeper and deeper. 

  
“Yeah. So now we know how Doyoung really feels, I guess, and I’m mad at him for being an asshole that doesn’t think before opening his mouth.” Johnny crosses his arms and heaves a loud sigh. 

  
“Well..shit. Uh, okay. Wow.” Ten blinks, leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He contemplates for a long moment. “You said you’re mad at him right now. Does that mean at some point you aren’t gonna be mad at him?” 

  
“I mean..yeah,” Johnny pulls a face, as if the mere thought agitates him. “He’s my best friend. But right now, I’m mad at Doyoung.” 

  
“Okay, gotcha. He really doesn’t think before he speaks, does he?” Ten rubs his temples. “Doyoung shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, ‘s shitty, and he definitely doesn’t get to hold your past against you.”

  
“We’ve had worse fights, but he’s never done...that. He’s never made me feel like a burden to him. As if I don’t constantly worry that I’m draining or too much for him and he just feels obligated to put up with me at this point,” Johnny’s lip quivers, and he tilts his head back, blinking rapidly. “Fuck, Taeyong, don’t look at me, it’s just embarrassing to cry in front of my boss.” 

  
“I mean, I think it’s safe to say I’ve seen you at lower points than this. Plus, now you know I watch anime, so. I think we’re even.”

  
“God, okay,” Johnny says, huffing out a watery laugh, “that actually makes me feel better. Sorry I’m such a nightmare, guys, no wonder Doyoung got tired of my shit.” He rubs his hands over his face. 

  
“Doyoung’s a dick.” Taeyong’s words make Johnny look at him in surprise. “This isn’t your fault. If he’s worried about you he needs to express himself in a way that doesn’t..make you feel shitty, I guess,” Taeyong falters under Johnny’s gaze, looking down at his hands. “Sorry, it’s not my business, I know–“

  
“You’re right, though. Thanks.” Johnny stands up from the couch, stretching his long arms over his head. “I’m gonna go have a cigarette, either of you feel free to join, or don’t.”

  
Johnny’s halfway through his cigarette when Ten comes out onto the balcony to keep him company. Frowning as if trying to think of what to say, Ten crosses his arms, purses his lips. 

  
“Johnny.” 

  
“ _Ten_ ,” says Johnny in the same tone, flicking ash off of his cigarette before taking a drag. 

  
“I think you should call him. You need to talk things out. We both know he was just talking out of his ass, and besides, your brother’s coming and they’re gonna want to see each other too.” Ten raises an eyebrow. 

  
“Ten?” 

  
“What?” 

  
“Do I look like I fuckin’ care if Doyoung wants to see my brother? As previously stated, I’m mad at him right now.” Johnny snorts. Ten’s nose crinkles with irritation and he snatches Johnny’s cigarette from his mouth. Johnny holds his hands up, pouting at Ten. 

  
“You’re such a smartass sometimes,” Ten says, smoke wafting off of his breath. Johnny’s shoulders slump. 

  
“I know, ‘m sorry. I don’t mean to direct this stuff at you.” Ten’s quiet, still working on the remainder of Johnny’s cigarette, and Johnny pulls his legs up to his chest, chin resting on his knees. He stares out at the horizon. “Am I ever, like, draining to be with?” 

  
“Babe..” Ten frowns, reaching out to Johnny. The elder takes his hand, eyes still averted. 

  
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything, sorry. This stuff with Doyoung’s just making me feel..icky, I guess.” Johnny shakes his head, stretching out again and reaching for his cigarettes. He stares at the open pack for a long moment, frowning. “These are gross. Why do I do this to myself?” 

  
Johnny’s scowl turns into a small smile, and Ten can’t help but snort, tipping his head back. 

  
“Ever heard of nicotine addiction?” Ten teases. “But seriously, to answer your first question, no. I know when I need to take a step back, you’ve been respectful of that, and I can handle the rest. Okay?” 

  
Johnny lets go of Ten’s hand to light up another cigarette. He’s bathed in the still-rising sun, dark hair gleaming red where the sun hits it and eyes turned to pools of honey. Johnny leans back in his seat, one leg shaking absentmindedly. 

  
“Am I really that difficult?” Is Johnny’s next question. “I mean, like....do I really stress him out that much?” 

  
“Johnny. I’m not gonna let you get in your head about this.” Ten moves into Johnny’s lap, gently holding his face to make the elder look at him. “Doyoung was out of line. You are not responsible for his reactions to you. Come on, we have to get ready to go meet your brother anyway. I don’t think it’s good to dwell, okay?” 

  
“Okay, fine–wait, you meant now?” Johnny desperately puffs at his cigarette as Ten gets up and tugs at his arm. “Fuck, _shit_ , lemme finish–“ 

  
“Nope, now!” Ten giggles, and Johnny whines before putting it out and following Ten inside. 

 

 

“Oh, he’s coming today?” Jeonghan’s eyes gleam, and he tosses his dark hair off of his shoulder, grinning at Johnny. 

  
“Don’t give me that look,” Johnny says around his toothbrush, spitting into the kitchen sink. 

  
“You’re mean and you have no class.” Jeonghan pulls a face. 

  
“Well tell your boyfriend to get out of the bathroom so I can use the sink in there!” Johnny laughs, leaning over to rinse his mouth out. When he straightens up, eyebrows raised, Jeonghan clasps his hands together behind his back and rocks back and forth on his heels, batting his lashes at Johnny. 

  
“I’ll bring him by tomorrow or something. Today’s me time. Sorry.” Johnny shrugs one shoulder, not seeming particularly apologetic. Jeonghan snorts. 

  
“I understand, I’ll live. When are you going?” 

  
“As soon as I get dressed and Ten finds his keys. Dunno how he lost them, we literally stopped here for ten minutes so–“ Johnny stops mid sentence, eyes going unfocused, one arm twitching slightly. He jolts out of it just as quickly as it happens, furrowing his brow at Jeonghan and bringing a hand up to rub at his sore shoulder. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

  
“You were saying,” Jeonghan corrects without missing a beat, “Ten’s keys have disappeared.” 

  
“I seriously don’t know where they went,” Ten comes loping out of Johnny’s room, throwing his hands up in the air. “I set them down for two seconds. Johnny! Why aren’t you ready!”

  
“Because fucking Josh is in the bathroom and I need my deodorant!” Johnny answers as he lopes down the hall to his room. There’s a sizable thud, and then silence. 

  
“Johnny?” Ten calls. “Did you die?” 

  
“I ate shit!” Is Johnny’s response. “In other news, though, I’ve just discovered that Woozi’s under my bed with your keys!” 

 

 

Johnny paces a small path back and forth beside Ten, his lower lip caught between his teeth. 

  
Ten sees Doyoung walk into the café they’d agreed to meet at before Johnny does, but only by a second or two, because Johnny stops pacing, arms folding across his chest. 

  
“What are you doing here?” Johnny asks as Doyoung approaches. His tone isn’t exactly hostile, however, it’s not the friendliest either. 

  
“Donghyuck texted asking if I was gonna meet him here. He’s my friend too, you know.” Doyoung shoves his phone into his pocket, raising an eyebrow at Johnny. 

  
“And he’s _my brother_.” Johnny rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He sighs and checks his phone, rocks from foot to foot slightly, rolls his shoulder back a couple of times.

  
“Johnny. Sit still. You’re giving me anxiety and also if I hear your bones make those god-awful noises one more time I’ll cry.” Ten puts a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, bringing his fidgeting to a halt. “Nothing is going to come between you and your little brother in the, like, six minutes it’s gonna take for him to get here, baby.” 

 

“Okay, first of all, I keep moving because it’s all stiff and keeps freezing.” 

  
“Great, please don’t say that. Was there a second of all?”

  
“I forgot it. I probably need to fucking see a doctor about this, I need PT again or something. Or maybe just some dick, but you can give me that.” Johnny starts laughing when Ten digs his knuckles into the taller’s ribs, threatening to beat Johnny up. Ten glances over at Doyoung, who’s watching them with a bitter, but oddly longing expression. 

  
Giving Johnny’s arm a gentle squeeze, Ten makes his way over to where Doyoung’s standing a few yards away. “What, afraid you’ve been replaced that quickly?” 

  
“ _You_ replace me?” Doyoung scoffs, then averts his gaze to his shoes. “Fuck, who am I kidding. Not like I’d blame him, I really fucked up now. Jesus.” 

  
“Yeah, you need to see someone and work on your ‘I feel’ statements, but that’s a discussion for later. But either way, he’s not gonna stay mad forever, goofy bitch told me himself.” 

  
Laughing dryly, Doyoung shakes his head. “And you think he’s gonna trust me the same way even if we’ve made up? Or feel safe telling me anything that’s going on with him anymore?” 

  
“I dunno. You’ll just have to figure it out, hm?” Ten looks over at Johnny, who’s watching him curiously. He waves, and Johnny smiles back at him before checking his phone. 

  
“Yeah, Ten?”

  
“Yes?”

  
“I hate you. Smug prick.” Doyoung raises an eyebrow. Grinning, Ten claps him on the shoulder. 

  
“I actually don’t mind you, if we’re being honest. I mean, I’m not sure exactly _what_ redeeming qualities you have to keep Johnny by your side for so long, but you’re, uh...you’re alright.” With that, Ten makes his way back over to Johnny, wrapping his arms around the elder’s middle and leaning on him. “Any updates?” 

  
“Dunno, like ten minutes ago he said he’s on the way–“ Johnny glances up and subsequently takes off running towards the door, which has just swung open. Ten doesn’t see Donghyuck, just a pair of arms flung around Johnny’s neck. He also hears a shriek, but Ten honestly isn’t even sure which one of them it comes from. 

  
Johnny twirls Donghyuck around once, face hidden in his brother’s fluffy silver hair. Donghyuck’s stretched onto his tiptoes and rocking them both back and forth. 

  
“God. I still don’t know where Johnny gets the huge bitch gene from, because literally no one else in their family is that tall,” Doyoung mutters, coming to stand beside Ten. He has a point; Donghyuck isn’t particularly short, but he’s still easily dwarfed by Johnny. 

  
“Think it’s just a Johnny thing?” 

  
“Has to be.” Doyoung’s fighting a smile, “Aw. Fuckin’ losers are crying.”

  
Sure enough, Ten looks back at Johnny and Donghyuck in time to see Johnny wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Arm still slung around Donghyuck’s shoulders, Johnny walks over to them. 

  
“Doie!” Donghyuck flings himself at Doyoung, who stumbles a little when he catches him. 

  
“Shit, you got big,” Doyoung marvels, pinching Donghyuck’s cheeks. 

  
“I know,” Donghyuck beams, then turns his gaze on Ten, eyes narrowing just a tiny bit. “So you’re Ten?”

  
“Like the dime, yeah.” Ten’s surprised when Donghyuck pulls him in for a tight hug, but he wraps his arms around Hyuck all the same, fighting the urge to smile like an idiot. 

  
“Cool. So. Why don’t we sit?” Donghyuck steps back, leaning into Johnny’s side. “Doyoung, John, you’re grounded to a different table till you solve your shit.” 

  
Johnny makes a gagging sound. “I will, but only if you never call me John again.” 

  
“Why? That’s your name, if you don’t want me to call you Youngho then–“ 

  
“I’m not old, is why! What kind of sad fucker under thirty goes by John?” Johnny argues, but he’s starting to giggle, as is Donghyuck. 

  
“Okay, fine, _Johnny_ , you and Doyoung are grounded to your own kiddie table until you can be friendly. No ifs ands or buts about it, I’m gonna interrogate your boyfriend now,” Donghyuck says over his shoulder, already ushering Ten away with a wicked smile. Ten’s honestly surprised Johnny doesn’t put up more of a fight. 

  
Noticing the look on Ten’s face, Donghyuck snorts. “He hates me so much right now. But I’m the one that’s better at arguing.” 

  
Johnny and Doyoung sit down across from each other in a booth. Johnny won’t look at Doyoung. 

  
“I love you so much, and I’m here because you’re my best friend and I care about you. And I know what you’re gonna say–“

  
“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve.” 

  
“I have a lot of fucking nerve,” Doyoung mumbles in unison, sinking lower in his seat and crossing his arms. This is when Johnny finally looks at him. Doyoung looks small, eyes cast down towards the table and his lower lip caught between his teeth. “But just...hear me out, please–“ Doyoung’s voice breaks, and he hurries to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. 

  
“Aw, shit, Doie,“ Johnny sighs and moves to sit beside Doyoung instead of across from him, gently wiping the younger’s tears away himself. “Come on, don’t cry, because I’ll cry, and I’ve already done that twice this morning. It’s getting old.” 

  
That earns a feeble laugh from Doyoung, and he sniffles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry, I’m supposed to be the one apologizing to you and I don’t want you to–to feel bad. I just. Shit. I’m so sorry, Johnny, I didn’t mean any of that bullshit I said but that doesn’t matter ‘cause I still said it and I said it because I care but it came out...all fucking wrong and like I was blaming you and I know I need to work on that. I love you so much and literally all I want is for you to be okay but I’ve been hurting your feelings a lot lately and I wanna fuckin’ kick myself ‘cause that’s not how you treat your frien–” 

  
“C’mere, I love you.” Johnny pulls Doyoung in for a hug, sighing. “But you’re the fucking worst sometimes.” 

  
“I know. I’m so sorry,” Doyoung whispers into Johnny’s neck. Johnny squeezes him a little tighter. 

  
“Wouldn’t really be fair to hold it against you, though. No one is perfect. I’ve been a pretty miserable friend sometimes too.” Johnny leans back to wipe Doyoung’s eyes one last time. “Just...give me some time, yeah? ‘S gonna be okay. For now we gotta go save Ten from my brother, though.” 

  
“How much do you make?” Donghyuck is asking casually when Johnny reaches the booth. Ten just laughs, while Johnny cuffs Donghyuck over the head. 

  
“Fuck is wrong with you...” Johnny grumbles, though he’s trying not to laugh. 

  
“He’s fine,” Ten waves a hand, scooting over so Johnny and Doyoung can sit down. “To answer your question, Hyuck,” he grins wickedly, and he can see Johnny’s expression go from exasperated to perplexed from the corner of his eye, “more than you, I’m hot and I’m a bartender. Also I take my exam tomorrow and then I’m a licensed tattooist.” 

  
“Oh my god,” Johnny mumbles, laying his head down in his arms. “Was it a mistake, letting you two meet? Also, tomorrow? Shit.” 

  
“No, I like him. If you think this is bad then he really shouldn’t meet Jeonghan.” Ten pokes Johnny, who sits back up to laugh. 

  
“True. Anyways,” Johnny says, speaking over Donghyuck when the younger asks, “Wait, who’s Jeonghan?” 

  
“How was your flight and stuff?”

  
“Why can’t I meet him? Now I wanna meet him, tell me who Jeonghan is–“ 

  
“Duckie, I have no clue what you’re talking about, you’re way too old for imaginary friends. Tell me how your flight was or I’ll punch you in the throat.” Johnny bites his lower lip to keep from grinning.

  
Donghyuck balls up a napkin and lobs it at Johnny, hitting the elder square in the face. They both burst into laughter, and though he’s smiling too, Doyoung mutters, “God, they’re like children.” 

 

 

Ten’s pretty sure he’s seen Johnny smile more in the past hour than in all four or so months they’ve known each other. He loves it—Johnny has dimples, and his eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins, and when he giggles it’s music to Ten’s ears. But everything feels...distant. Ten zoned out a while ago, head on Johnny’s shoulder, playing with his fingers absentmindedly. 

  
“Hey, babe,” Ten murmurs in Johnny’s ear, squeezing his hand. Johnny doesn’t hear him at first, so Ten repeats himself, tracing a fingertip over one of Johnny’s rings. Johnny pauses his conversation with Donghyuck and Doyoung to look at Ten, raising his eyebrows. Ten smiles faintly. “I’m feeling a little weird, I think I’m gonna go home. Lie down for a bit or something.” 

  
“Alright,” Johnny nods, getting up when Ten does. “Lemme walk you to your car.” 

  
Johnny gives Ten a long hug when they reach the latter’s car and Ten allows himself to just sag in Johnny’s arms. Johnny easily supports Ten’s full weight. His lips are warm against the top of Ten’s head, and one of his hands rubs Ten’s back gently. Ten swallows hard and tries to blink his tears away, burying his face in Johnny’s shirt so he doesn’t see. 

  
“You good?” Johnny rocks them back and forth gently. “Gonna be able to drive?” 

  
“Yeah, ‘m okay. Promise. I just need to...I don’t know.” Ten sniffles, pulls back just slightly and pushes his hands under Johnny’s shirt, warming them against his stomach. Johnny doesn’t even complain. “Think I’m gonna play with Cinderblock for a while and binge-watch something.” 

  
“Sounds good. What’re you gonna watch?” Johnny opens Ten’s car door for him, one side of his mouth curling upwards. 

  
“Probably the Twilight saga.” Ten stands on his tiptoes to kiss Johnny on the cheek before he gets into his car. 

  
“Your mind, I love you.” Grinning, Johnny leans down and kisses Ten on the lips before stepping back. “Text me when you’re up to it, dime.” 

  
“I will. I love you too,” Ten says, and he really, really means it. Johnny shuts the car door for him, and Ten waits until he’s back inside to leave. 

 

 

Ten’s door is already open, but Taeyong still knocks on the doorframe when he leans into the room. His frown turns to relief when he sees Ten sitting in bed, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Cinderblock slithering through his fingers. 

  
“Phew, cool, she’s with you–hey, you okay?” Taeyong frowns, noticing Ten’s red, puffy eyes. Ten forces a wobbly smile.  

  
“Yeah, everything’s fine, just..feelin’ bad.” Ten allows Cinderblock to coil up on his bed, beside the warmth of his laptop, so he can wipe his eyes on his sleeves. 

  
“D’you want some tea? I was gonna make some anyway..” Taeyong tilts his head to one side. Ten eyes him curiously for a moment, then nods. 

  
“Yeah, thank you. I need to feed this sentient shoelace anyway.” Ten picks Cinderblock up, and she bites him for it. It barely hurts, but Taeyong winces all the same. 

  
Once Cinderblock is back in her tank, and a mouse is thawing on the counter, Ten goes to wash his hands and put a bandaid on the tiny puncture wounds she left. Taeyong goes about boiling water, setting two mugs out on the counter far away from where the half-frozen mouse sits on a paper towel. 

  
“Did something happen?” Taeyong queries, leaning against the counter across from Ten. 

  
“No, that’s the thing,” Ten laughs bitterly, “my life is great right now, I should be happy, and I was, but all of a sudden I just don’t...feel anything, except I’m tired and sad.”

  
Ten knows he must look pitiful, tears welling up in his already-swollen eyes and arms hugged around himself, but it’s all he can do to not break down completely right there. Even so, a tiny sob escapes him when Ten feels Taeyong’s arms around him, embracing the younger close. 

  
“Where’s Johnny, do you want to call him?” Taeyong smooths Ten’s hair back. Ten shakes his head, which surprises Taeyong. 

  
“Nah, he’s with his, um, his brother right now,” Ten sniffles, “I’ll text him or something. Thank you for being so nice to me.” 

  
“Yeah, of course.” Taeyong chews on his lower lip like he’s debating saying something else, but decides against it and turns to fix their tea. 

  
Taeyong brings the two mugs to Ten’s room, where he’s crawled back under his blanket to mope some more. “I didn’t know how you liked your tea so I just put two sugars.” 

  
“That’s fine, thanks. Will you stay?” Ten takes the mug from Taeyong’s outstretched hand. Taeyong widens his eyes comically, blinks a couple of times before sinking onto the bed and pulling his knees up to his chest. 

  
“Sure.” 

  
It’s hard to describe exactly how Ten feels. Better? Not really. But less alone? Yes. 

 

 

  
**4:46 p.m.**

  
**(人･㉨･)♡ my baby..:** hey if ur like feeling up to it will u come over when satan incarnate heads home 

 **johnny:** Hdnsjdnd  
Yeah 

 **(人･㉨･)♡ my baby..:** did u just.....  
keyboard smash....  
okay bottom. 

 **johnny:** >:/  
But yeth I’ll be there soon actually 

 

Johnny can’t help but grin at his phone, however, it’s cut short by Donghyuck snatching it from his hands. 

  
“What are you so fuckin’ smiley about, huh? Is the gift of my presence not enough for you?” Donghyuck jeers, waving Johnny’s phone around. Johnny grabs it back easily, his height giving him the advantage. 

  
“Have I ever told you you’re a pest? And I hate you?” Johnny slings an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders. He’s walking Donghyuck back to his car. 

  
“I love you too, Youngho-hyung,” Donghyuck sing-songs. “What are we doing tomorrow?” 

  
“Oh, I have something planned. Has to do with this cool new potential job I’m probably gonna get. Anyway, get home and get some rest, I know you’re jet lagged.” Johnny yanks Donghyuck into a tight hug, ruffling his younger brother’s hair. “Also, I wanna meet your loser boyfriends soon.” 

  
Donghyuck flips him off. 

 

  
Johnny feels a little bad, buying cigarettes, but he reasons that he’d stopped to get gas anyway, so he might as well while he was there. 

  
“Ten on pump four, and a pack of Camel blues,” Johnny mumbles to the exasperated teenager behind the register, taking the cash and his license from his wallet. Someone enters the gas station, walking past Johnny. Something about them makes Johnny do a double take, not even noticing the cashier taking his money and squinting at his ID. 

  
“Oh, you’re fucking kidding..” Johnny mumbles. 

  
“Pardon?” The cashier hands Johnny his change and cigarettes, lip curling. 

  
“Sorry, not you,” Johnny says hurriedly, stuffing the change back into his wallet. The other person is coming to pay for their drinks, and Johnny almost trips in his rush to leave. 

  
Johnny keeps his head down as he puts some gas in his tank, chewing on his lower lip. “Why would he be here? It’s not him, that’s crazy,” Johnny mumbles, taking a cigarette from his fresh pack and sticking it between his teeth. 

  
“Isn’t it, like, general consensus that it’s a bad idea to smoke at a gas station?” 

  
“Fuck,” Johnny says loudly. He looks to his left, and sure enough, Taeil’s standing there, smiling at him. Johnny has a million things he could say filtering through his mind, but he settles on, “Yeah, ‘s why I’m waiting to light it.” 

  
“Fair enough. It’s funny seeing you here.” Taeil tilts his head to one side. 

  
“I mean, I live around here, so. What are you doing here? Not to be rude or anything.” Johnny raises his eyebrows. He can tell Taeil’s reading his energy, figuring out how to navigate Johnny all over again. He’s always been good with people like that. 

  
“I’m visiting a friend. There’s some really nice people here.” 

  
“Oh, Jesus _fuck_ , it’s gonna be someone I know, because all the cool Asians around here know each other.” Johnny tilts his head back. Taeil laughs aloud, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Johnny finishes filling his tank and sticks the nozzle back in its holder. “Well, I hate to cut this short and all, even with how fucking weird it was, but I have to be somewhere. You look good.” 

  
As Taeil’s backing away, he grins, bites his lower lip. “You too. I hope I see you soon.” 

  
Johnny doesn’t answer, just smiles halfheartedly and climbs into his truck. 

 

 

The apartment is quiet when Johnny lets himself in. He leaves his shoes by the door, keys on the counter, and pads down the hall to Ten’s room—and stops when he reaches the doorway. 

  
Ten and Taeyong are curled up together, asleep on the former’s bed, Ten’s laptop pushed to the end and Taeyong still in his work clothes as if they had just dozed off there. Johnny fights a smile and shuts Ten’s laptop, setting it aside so it doesn’t get knocked over. Then, he goes to the living room and takes a seat on the couch, at the end closest to Cinderblock’s tank. She’s at her water dish, and when Johnny puts a finger up to her tank she attempts to strike at it through the glass. Johnny grins and settles down to look at his phone. 

  
Johnny’s been sitting there for barely ten minutes when Taeyong comes shuffling into the hall, towards the kitchen. He freezes upon seeing Johnny, and his eyes only grow wider when Johnny stands, crosses the living room in just a couple strides. It doesn’t occur to him how intimidating that must look until after the fact. 

  
Face reddening, Taeyong puts his hands up, stammering out, “Nothing, like happened, we–he asked me to hang out with him, and–“ 

  
“Taeyong.” Johnny puts a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, chuckling. “Chill, sorry for spooking you. I just wanted to thank you for staying.” 

  
Taeyong slumps in relief, dark eyes glittering. “Oh. Yeah,” he finally says, “yeah, it’s no problem. I’m glad you came. He will be too.” 

  
Johnny half-smiles at Taeyong. “He still asleep?” 

  
“Oh, yeah. He’s out.” 

  
“Cool. Thanks, Taeyong.” Their gazes linger on each other for a little longer as Johnny makes his way down the hall, and then he’s going into Ten’s room. Taeyong sighs loudly before continuing on to the kitchen. 

  
Ten, sure enough, is still fast asleep. He doesn’t so much as twitch as Johnny crawls into bed behind him. It’s like he knows it’s Johnny even in his sleep, though, because Ten turns over to rest his head against Johnny’s chest, sling one leg across his hips. Sighing, Johnny closes his eyes and rubs Ten’s back, kissing the top of his head. This feels like home. 

 

 

Ten jolts awake from a dreamless sleep sometime early in the morning. The rising sun is just barely beginning to peek through the blinds, casting a faint bluish light onto everything. Ten looks down at Johnny. The pale blue-grey wash across his face turns Johnny’s sharp features into hand-sculpted marble, a statue of what resting angels must look like. Ten’s reminded of one of the first nights he went over to Johnny’s, sitting on the elder’s stomach while Johnny laid on the floor. He’s thankful that Johnny’s still sleeping—it’s probably kind of creepy to be staring at him like this. It’s not Ten’s fault Johnny’s so disgustingly handsome. He’s pouting, even in his sleep, dark hair splayed out onto the pillow and lashes casting a shadow onto his cheeks. His brows are dark, constantly-frowning slashes over his eyes, but when Johnny’s asleep his features are truly at rest. 

  
Johnny’s eyes begin to move back and forth beneath his lids, brows furrowing. His arm tightens around Ten, who lays his head back down on Johnny’s chest and traces his fingers up and down the elder’s free arm—his left one, the one with the scars. 

  
“It’s okay,” Ten murmurs, though Johnny probably can’t hear him. “You’re safe, my love.” 

 

 

The next time Ten wakes up, his room is fully illuminated with sunlight and Johnny’s walking in, scrubbing his hair dry with a towel. 

  
“Good morning, beautiful,” Johnny says, but his smile melts away at the look of panic on Ten’s face. 

  
“Shit, what time is it–did I oversleep?” Ten kicks his blanket away and looks around for his phone. 

  
“Hey, Ten,” Johnny crosses the room swiftly, hands warm when he cups Ten’s face and makes the younger look at him. “You’re fine, it’s only, like, eight. I wouldn’t let you oversleep. Breathe, yeah, dime?” 

  
“Yeah.” Ten exhales slowly, pulling Johnny down for a kiss. “Sorry. About yesterday, and also just now, I’m...yeah. I’m sorry.” 

  
“Don’t have to apologize,” murmurs Johnny, “we all have our moments. I’m proud of you.”

  
Closing his eyes, Ten just rests their foreheads together for a moment. “I love you. A lot.” 

  
“I know. I love you too.” Wrapping an arm around Ten’s waist, Johnny hoists the younger up and twirls them once, peppering Ten’s cheeks in kisses. “You’re my baby,” Johnny coos, only for Ten to pinch his cheeks with both hands. 

  
“We both know you’re the baby in this relationship.” Ten squishes Johnny’s cheeks until the elder’s lips are puckered up, and Johnny can’t help but lean in for a kiss. Ten grins. “See? Baby behavior.”

  
Johnny pulls back to stare at Ten, bemused. Ten pecks him once more on the lips. “Don’t give me that look. Coffee?” 

  
“You wanna come with me for breakfast? Gonna meet Duckie to get Timmy Ho’s and then do the thing we had planned today, you can come ‘n I’ll see you off to your exam and stuff.” Johnny pulls Ten close and sways them both back and forth gently, his chin resting on the crown of Ten’s head. Ten enjoys being pressed to Johnny’s chest for a moment, just taking in his warmth and clean, musky scent. 

  
“Yeah,” he finally answers, pressing a soft kiss to the point of Johnny’s collarbone. “Sounds good to me.”

  
“You up to it? How are you feeling, really?” Johnny squeezes Ten a little tighter, and Ten curls his hands into the fabric of Johnny’s shirt in return. Taking a deep breath, he thinks for a moment before answering. 

  
“I’m up for it. I’m still, like, not all here, but I’m not hardcore dissociating anymore. I think being out of the house will help.” Ten reaches up to play with Johnny’s hair. It’s getting long on top, hanging past his ears and curtaining his face. “You need a haircut.” 

  
“Duckie says so too. He’s trying to convince me to let him dye my hair before they leave.” 

  
“Let him do it!” Ten gasps. 

  
“Don’t you start!” Johnny whines. 

 

 

Johnny says goodbye to Ten with a lingering kiss, his lips sweet from the hot chocolate they’d shared. Donghyuck retches loudly from where he stands watching, carrying Johnny’s amp for him, as well as an acoustic guitar in a case on his back. 

  
“Shut up, fag.” Johnny flips Donghyuck off and gives Ten another kiss. “You’re gonna do amazing. I love you.” 

  
Ten bites back his grin. “I love you too, loser. Don’t kill your brother.” 

  
“No promises. See you in a bit?” Johnny squeezes Ten’s hand, takes a step back. 

  
“I miss you already. You’re gonna get this job,” Ten beams, slowly letting his fingers slip away from Johnny’s. The smile he gets in return could light up an entire city. 

  
The school is a short walk from where they’d dropped Ten off, and Johnny takes his amp from Donghyuck as they set off down the sidewalk. 

  
“I had it,” complains the younger, “it’s not even that heavy. Anyways, though, you and Ten are really in love-love, huh?” 

  
Johnny can’t even fight his grin, looking down at his feet. “I mean, I love him a lot.” 

  
“I can tell. It’s gross and I’m so happy you guys have each other. He’s, like, insufferable. And yet perfect for you.” 

  
“Right?” 

  
“Wait, is his name really Ten though?” 

  
“Nah, ‘s a nickname. He only really uses his full birth name on like, official shit like his license and stuff. Cultural thing.” 

  
“Oh, right, he’s Thai! That reminds me of our RA Bambam, he’s Thai too which is why he has a dope-ass name like Bambam, I have no idea how this dude became an RA because he’s the worst role model ever but we all love him ‘cause he helped me and my roomies sneak some White Claw into our dorm...” Donghyuck begins rambling about life at college, and Johnny’s more than happy to listen, adjusting the straps of his guitar case on his shoulders. His bad shoulder has been twinging periodically, but Johnny’s determined not to let it ruin his mood, or his day. Not with Donghyuck here. 

 

 

Johnny’s waiting outside with Donghyuck, smiling, but it slides off his face when he sees Ten’s expression. 

  
“Hey, baby, what’s–“ Johnny doesn’t even finish before Ten’s plastered to him, sniffling and hiccuping into Johnny’s chest. Johnny winds his arms around the younger without a second thought. “Alright, it’s okay, dime,” he soothes, squeezing Ten tightly. If it were anyone else, Ten would probably hate it—he’d probably cringe and try to get as far away from any human contact as possible. But it’s Johnny, and Ten just feels safe with him. 

  
“I’m gonna bomb this and then I won’t know what to do with myself, I was so anxious the whole time I couldn’t even focus,” Ten cries into Johnny’s shirt, not even caring that he’s staining it with tears. 

  
“Shh, I’ve got you, breathe for me,” Johnny murmurs, “if you keep crying then I’ll cry, and then Donghyuck will cry, it’ll just be a mess.” 

  
That earns a watery giggle from Ten, and he curls his hands into the fabric of Johnny’s shirt. “You’ll cry either way, pissbaby,” he says, and Johnny doesn’t tease him for the shakiness of his voice, just smiles. 

  
“Yeah, true. Do you wanna get food? Or just find something at home?” 

  
“What about you and Donghyuck? Don’t you wanna spend time together?” 

  
“Mark’s mom wants me back home in time for dinner so she can keep overfeeding me and embarrassing her son,” Donghyuck supplies helpfully from behind Johnny. Ten grins. 

  
“Cute. You guys should come to mine for dinner one night, I’ll force Johnny to make something with me.” Ten wipes his eyes, grateful for Donghyuck’s complete disregard of what had happened thirty seconds previously. He doesn’t like to dwell. 

  
Johnny pets Ten’s hair absentmindedly. “Oh, good idea. He can meet Cinderblock. We can invite Jeonghan too. If he’s on his best behavior.” 

  
“ _Who_ is Jeonghan?” Donghyuck insists. 

 

 

The eighth wonder of the world is how Ten and Johnny both managed to fit into his bathtub, even if it’s a big one. However they did it, Ten’s grateful to soak in the hot water with his head against Johnny’s chest, lulled into a sleepy trance by Johnny’s gentle hands washing him. He can feel Johnny tracing the ink on his bicep with one finger. 

  
“I’ve never really asked about your tattoos,” Johnny realizes. Ten hums, opening one eye. 

  
“Most of them don’t mean much. Just did ‘em ‘cause I thought they looked cool,” he yawns. “It’s funny, though,” Ten looks at the tattoo Johnny had been tracing. It’s pretty simple, just a drawing of a toilet with flowers growing out of the bowl done in black line work, the only parts that are filled in being the pink and blue flower petals. “This is the one everyone thinks is a joke, but ‘s my little reminder that you can find good in the shitty stuff or something corny like that.” 

  
“I like it.” Johnny smiles. Ten presses a kiss to Johnny’s neck before laying his head back down. 

  
“I love you,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around Johnny tightly. 

  
“Love you too, babe. You wanna talk about what happened earlier?” 

  
Ten whines. He can hear the smile in Johnny’s voice when he says, “You don’t have to. Just wondered if talking about it would make you feel better. And I’m positive you did amazing.” 

  
“Probably, but I just felt so shitty earlier. I dunno what was up.” Ten traces his fingers over Johnny’s collarbone, down to his chest. “It’s okay. I’d rather just move on.” 

  
“M’kay,” Johnny kisses the top of Ten’s head. “Oh, you wanna hear something crazy? The–“

  
Johnny’s phone starts ringing where he left it on the bathroom counter. He groans, but Ten pats his chest. “Answer it, it might be important.” 

  
Johnny’s pouting when he grabs his phone and answers it, setting it on the edge of the bathtub so he can go back to holding Ten. 

  
“You’re on speaker, Lord Pencil Dick.” 

  
_“What–okay, fine. You’re not gonna fucking believe this,”_ Doyoung’s voice shrieks through the speaker, _“so Yuta said his friend was visiting from the states and I was like oh what’s his name and no fucking shit he said Taeil. And I didn’t think it was like, Taeil Taeil, but also, how many Taeils are there from the states, you know? So–“_

  
“Dude, it’s him, I fuckin’ saw him at the gas station the other night and just about shit myself. I fucking knew we’d end up having a mutual friend or something,” Johnny interrupts. They hear a clatter like Doyoung dropped his phone, and then distant screaming. 

  
_“No fucking way!”_ Doyoung picks the phone back up. _"Oh my god, I hate this, this is so weird, first Donghyuck comes back and then this. He’s coming over for dinner and Yuta wants me to stay and meet him, he doesn’t know we know each other, I hate this so much.”_

  
“Normally I’d offer to suffer through that with you, but you’re still on punishment for being mean to me crimes. However, if Yuta were inclined to invite me, I might consider it, because I am not mad at _him_ , and can’t help if you just happen to be there.” Johnny smiles a little, playing with Ten’s hair. Ten pinches the inside of Johnny’s thigh and grins when he jumps, covering his mouth to stifle his giggles. Johnny scrunches his nose at Ten indignantly. 

  
_“You’re meeeeeaaaan. Fair enough though. Well, that’s all I really wanted to talk to you about, so I’ll leave you alone now. Byyyyyeeee I love you.”_

  
“Bitch. Love you too,” Johnny singsongs before hanging up. He groans loudly, leaning his head back, and Ten can’t help but laugh a little, pressing a kiss to Johnny’s exposed Adam’s apple. 

  
“You didn’t tell me you ran into Taeil,” he hums, tracing his fingers over Johnny’s collarbones. 

  
“It was the other night you weren’t feeling great, I didn’t think it was worth bringing up then. I was about to tell you, but Doyoung’s timing is just that good.” 

  
“Doyoung is...a character. Hey, tell me how your thing went today.” 

  
“Oh!” Johnny’s face brightens. “It was cool, Kibum got this teacher Kyungsoo, who definitely hates me, to distract Donghyuck, ‘cause he was losing his mind when he realized my most-likely new boss is his favorite playwright and shit. They went and like, looked at the theater and stuff and I went to check out what I’m gonna be doing there. Kibum explained everything and introduced me to everyone and then I sat down and started working with this pair, one of 'em is nonverbal and uses sign but his friend interpreted for him and they both seemed like they were having fun. The kids really liked me, which is...weird. To me.” 

  
“Believe it or not, Johnny, you honestly look like a huge Build-A-Bear when you’re not curling your lip at everything.” 

  
“I do not curl my li–huh? Are you calling me a bear?” 

  
“No, you’re like, otter territory at most.” Ten pecks Johnny on the lips right before the elder bursts into laughter. 

 

 

“Just out of curiosity, what’s your lease on that apartment looking like?”

  
“Are you asking me to _move iiiin with yoooouuuu?_ ” Johnny teases, not looking up from the notebook he’s scrawling away in. Ten scowls.

  
“No, never.”

  
This time, Johnny lifts his head to pout at Ten, widening his eyes innocently. “It’s up in March. I think Jeonghan and Josh are gonna end up finding a place together anyway, so.”

  
“Perfect.” Ten goes from frowning to beaming in an instant, clapping his hands together. 

  
“What about Taeyong, though? He gonna be cool with it?” Johnny returns to his writing, chewing on his lower lip. 

  
“Probably, I’ll ask him when he gets home. He’s been working mad hours lately.”

  
“Yeah, they cut back my hours like hell since I put in my two weeks and they don’t wanna pay me if I’m quitting but they have to, he told me he’s having to pick up a lot of the slack. I feel kinda bad.” Johnny shuts his notebook and stands up, stretching both arms over his head. “But also, not my problem.” 

  
“Wow. You know, the amount of empathy and compassion you hold in your heart never fails to make me proud.” Ten snorts, stretching out on the couch and reaching for Johnny with both hands. “Come make out with me.”

  
Johnny’s perfectly content to settle between Ten’s thighs, lips sliding lazily against Ten’s at first. He licks into Ten’s mouth, making a soft, whiny noise in the back of his throat when the younger bites gently at his lower lip. 

  
Ten hooks one leg over Johnny’s waist, arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close, although Johnny isn’t going anywhere. Holding himself up with one arm beside Ten’s head, Johnny slides his free hand under Ten’s shirt, cool fingers skating along his skin and stopping to squeeze his waist. Ten sighs at his touch, smiling a little. 

  
“You’re cute.” 

  
“Mmmno you. I’m tired,” Johnny tucks his face into Ten’s neck. 

  
“You’re spending the night, ‘m assuming?” Ten squeezes him tighter and tighter until Johnny flails and makes a strained noise, giggling when the elder sits up to pout at him. 

  
“Yeah, but I’m sleeping with Taeyong,” he quips, right as Taeyong himself makes his way into the living room, jacket draped over one arm and keys dangling from his fingers. 

  
“Sorry, what?” Taeyong blinks a few times. Johnny rolls off of the couch, and Ten sits up to grin at Taeyong. 

  
“Ten’s bullying me.” Johnny picks himself up clumsily. “You look like shit.” 

  
“I’m so tired,” Taeyong says, shoulders slumping. Ten gets up as well, walking over to gently take Taeyong’s jacket and keys from him, setting them down on the counter. 

  
“Alright, c’mon. It’s bedtime.” Johnny holds his arms out, makes grabby hands at Taeyong, who doesn’t protest, just shuffles over to Johnny, leaning all his weight on the taller and wrapping his arms around Johnny’s neck. Taeyong’s small, light enough that Johnny can wrap his arms around his middle and just drag Taeyong down the hall to his room. 

  
“Why are you just being so nice to me now?” Taeyong mumbles as Johnny’s dumping him unceremoniously onto his bed, almost falling on top of Taeyong in the process. 

  
“Come again?” Johnny straightens up, squinting at Taeyong in the low light of his lamp. 

  
“Why are you so nice to me now?” 

  
“Because holding a grudge is useless, I’m at your house all the time and I’d rather just be your friend. I really don’t hate you,” Johnny laughs, “I think you’re a bit neurotic, but who’m I to say anything about that, right?”

  
Taeyong smiles. “Thank you. You’re right, and, for the record, I think you’re pretty cool.” 

  
“Aw, thanks,” Johnny pinches Taeyong’s cheek teasingly, “now let me tuck you in and shit.” 

  
Taeyong looks like a child, all bundled underneath his blanket and peering up at Johnny sleepily. 

  
“I’m turning the light off. Night, Yong,” Johnny says, tone soft. Taeyong’s lids are drooping as Johnny reaches for the lamp, and they’re closed by the time Johnny’s out of his room, shutting the door behind him. 

**Author's Note:**

> if u wanna talk to me my social medias are as follows:  
> twt: dykejisung  
> cc: JAEMlNDYKE


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